


Soul Of The City

by MikePaterno



Category: Early Edition (TV)
Genre: F/M, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 44,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24327580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikePaterno/pseuds/MikePaterno
Summary: This fanfic, the sequel to TRIALS & TRIBULATIONS, is the seventh in a series that introduced Mark Perini as McGinty's bar manager. In this storyline, Gary and Amma plan to get married and Gary asks Mark to be his best man. Mark accepts and later that night, before going to bed, mentions to Marissa that he thinks The Paper has finally done something good for Gary. Mark wakes up the following morning and finds everything that he has known for the past few years has changed drastically, and Gary Hobson, for some unknown reason, has never existed. Mark has the chance to see what the city of Chicago would be like without Gary and it isn't very pretty.Authors Notes: I dedicate this fanfic to Kade Volz and Rose Kane. I would like to take the time to thank them for encouraging me to continue on with this series of fanfics and more importantly, for being true friends. If you have enjoyed reading this series, please let me know. Your comments, feedback or suggestions of any type are very important to me and always encouraged. They may be directed to: mjpaterno126@gmail.com
Relationships: Gary Hobson & Amma Perini, Gianfranco & Cassandra Perini - Relationship, Mark & Marissa Perini





	Soul Of The City

**SOUL OF THE CITY**   
_**By Mike Paterno** _

**Disclaimer** : Early Edition, it's situations and characters (with the exceptions of Mark Perini, Amma Perini, the twins {Gianfranco & Cassandra Perini} and Frank Molina, all whom I created and own) are the property of CBS Productions and Columbia/Tri-Star Television. This fanfic is meant for entertainment purposes only; no infringement is intended and no profit is being made.

 **Rating:** PG-14 (Mature Language, brief nudity, sexual situations, Violence and Mature themes)

 **Summary** : This fanfic, the sequel to **TRIALS & TRIBULATIONS**, is the seventh in a series that introduced Mark Perini as McGinty's bar manager. In this storyline, Gary and Amma plan to get married and Gary asks Mark to be his best man. Mark accepts and later that night, before going to bed, mentions to Marissa that he thinks _The Paper_ has finally done something good for Gary. Mark wakes up the following morning and finds everything that he has known for the past few years has changed drastically, and Gary Hobson, for some unknown reason, has never existed. Mark has the chance to see what the city of Chicago would be like without Gary and it isn't very pretty.

 **Authors Notes** : I dedicate this fanfic to Kade Volz and Rose Kane. I would like to take the time to thank them for encouraging me to continue on with this series of fanfics and more importantly, for being true friends. If you have enjoyed reading this series, please let me know. Your comments, feedback or suggestions of any type are very important to me and always encouraged. They may be directed to: mjpaterno126@gmail.com

**SOUL OF THE CITY**

**CHAPTER ONE**

Gary had just come back from the jewelers with the engagement ring he had got for Amma. He was looking around McGinty's to give it to her, when he spotted Mark behind the front bar, fixing a drink for a customer. With a big smile on his face, Gary walked over to Mark and sat down at the bar.

"Hey, Mark, how's it goin' today?"

Mark smiled back, "Not too bad, future cousin-in-law, how 'bout yourself?"

"Great," Gary replied, "I just picked up Amma's engagement ring and can't wait to give it to her! Oh! That reminds me," his smile became broader and he had a twinkle in his eye, "Amma and I discussed this and we'd both like for you to be the best man at our wedding."

"I'd be honored, Gary," Mark answered, "The two of you make a great couple and I couldn't think of anyone else that I'd like to see get married to each other."

"Great! She's gonna ask Marissa be her maid of honor and her father, your uncle Angelo, is gonna give her away."

"Well, at least he'll show up for her wedding," grumbled Mark, "I'm still mad at him for not coming to Marissa's and mine. The man raised me, and up until I married Marissa, acted like my father. I'm not at all sorry for the way I feel towards him, so don't expect me to go out of my way to make him feel welcome."

Gary shook his head, "That's between you and him, but don't you let it get the way of the wedding. I think Amma said she'd try and smooth things over with him, but if she can't, just remember to keep your cool."

"You know me better than that, Gary," Mark replied, "Or at least I thought you did."

"I know, you'll try and keep it to yourself," Gary smiled and patted Mark on the back, "It seems like _The Paper_ is finally letting me have a life of my own. For over six years, _The Paper_ has got in the way of me having a decent relationship, but now...I still can't believe she asked me to marry her!"

"Maybe this is what _The Paper_ had in mind all along, Gary," Mark smiled back at him, "After all, she got _The Paper_ back in Philly and her life hasn't been a bed of roses, either."

"That's true, I guess you could be right." Gary stood up and began walking towards the office, but turned back to face Mark, "Don't tell Marissa about the maid of honor thing. I think Amma wanted to ask her herself."

"Sure thing, Gary, I won't mention it."

"Mark, pal, one other thing..."

"What?"

"Try to forgive your uncle. I know it's difficult, but this is your chance to show him the reason why Amma and I wanted you for my best man...because you really are."

"I'll think about it, Gary, I really will."

**********

Marissa and Mark were in the loft, just ready to go to bed. The twins were fast asleep in their crib and Marissa was lying in bed, her fingers reading a Braille book that she kept on the nightstand and read a little each night before going to sleep. Mark came over and began kissing her passionately.

Marissa chuckled, "Isn't this where I say not tonight, I have a headache?"

"I hope not."

Marissa laughed, "I could never have a headache when it comes to you and me."

She put away her book and the two of them began to embrace each other tenderly.

Afterwards, as the two of them were ready to go to sleep, Mark spoke about the wedding, "I'm so glad that Amma asked Gary to marry her. I know it was a bit unconventional, but Amma was never one to stand on tradition!"

Marissa giggled and kissed him, "It must run in your family."

"What do you mean?"

"Mark, honey," she gently stroked his face, "Think about it. Most couples have their children after they get married," she laughed, "Not on their wedding day, like we did."

"Uh...yeah, I, um, know."

"Not that I mind." she kissed him, "This wedding will be much different than ours for a number of reasons. First, Amma's taking the time to plan it carefully, and hold it in a church. Second, she's not rushing into it. The wedding won't take place for another six months and she's going to be a bit more organized than we were. And finally, she's having a few more, uh, relatives show up than you did."

"Gee, I wonder why?"

"Mark, please try and be nice to them. After they meet me and see the twins, maybe they'll change their attitudes towards us."

"I'll try, Sweetstuff," Mark softly replied, "I did promise you that I'd always keep the door open for them."

"Good," said Marissa, "And besides, Amma asked me to be her maid of honor and Gary asked you to be his best man," she smiled, "So your family will have to deal with us as a couple, anyway."

"That's for sure!"

Mark paused a moment to ponder something and then said, "I told Gary today that maybe this is what _The Paper_ wanted for him all along, to meet Amma and fall in love. I really think _The Paper_ has finally done something good for Gary. Lord knows how difficult it's made his life?"

"That's true, Mark, and I think you're right, this is what _The Paper_ had in mind for him all along."

"Still, I wonder..."

Marissa was puzzled, "Wonder what?"

"If Gary or even _The Paper_ has made that much of a difference," Mark kissed her, "I know he saves lives, but what if he didn't and just lived his life like a regular guy?"

"Even though he's saved a lot of people, I suppose in the big picture, Gary really hasn't changed that much in Chicago." She giggled, "And knowing you, the next thing you'll probably mention is what the world might be like without Gary."

Mark laughed, "Somehow I could never picture a world, or even Chicago, without Gary Hobson."

"Me, either, Mark," Marissa giggled, "Now let's go to sleep, honey, I'm tired." She kissed him, "Good night!"

"Good night, Sweetstuff." He returned her kiss, turned off the light and began drifting off to sleep, "A world without Gary Hobson," Mark mumbled as he fell asleep, "Like that could ever happen."

\-------------

**CHAPTER TWO**

Mark woke up to the sound of what he thought was Marissa screaming at someone to "Shut the hell up and quit cryin'!" Reaching for his glasses on the nightstand, he was shocked at what he perceived to be a tenement apartment, with cracks in the walls and the aroma of week old garbage permeating the air. Looking around the dingy room with it's torn drapes and broken furniture, he spotted a woman who outwardly resembled Marissa, but was wearing a stained and torn housecoat, no make-up and had a general appearance of someone who didn't care much about herself. Like his own Marissa, this woman was also blind and was bent over a small bed, admonishing a child to stop crying.

"Can't you do anything but cry, you stupid damned brat?"

"M-Marissa?"

"It's about time you got your ass up, Perini! You have to go to that damn dive of a place you call a bar and chase the junkies off the doorstep!" She shook her head, "Why the hell did I ever marry you? I suppose I just needed somebody to look after Bobby and me, 'cause I sure as hell don't love you."

"B-Bobby?"

"Yeah, Bobby..." she shook her head again, "Have you got a hangover again? Bobby, my six year old brat from that jerk at Strauss who knocked me up and left town when he found out I was havin' his kid. What's with you this morning? Get your fucking ass out of bed!"

Mark was stunned beyond belief, it was Marissa, but not the one he knew, and the apartment, he saw a couple of items he recognized, but this couldn't be their place, could it? This was very wrong, where was he and what happened?

"M-Marissa? What happened to you? What is this place?"

"That's it, Perini," she screamed, "Do I have to slap you with my cane like I do to the brat when he's done somethin' bad? Now you get your fucking ass out of that bed and go to your damn job at McGinty's or I swear I'll slap you, do you understand me?"

"I gotta get outta here," mumbled Mark as he got out of bed and quickly dressed, "Maybe this is just a bad dream and once I'm outside I'll wake up."

Mark left the apartment and immediately recognized the area of Chicago he was in. It was a part of the city that he and Gary had made a save in about three months ago. It was a very poor neighborhood that suffered from high crime and low self esteem for the residents. He checked his wallet to see if he had any cash and after seeing that he did, went to the EL and grabbed a train towards the River North neighborhood and McGinty's.

While on board the train, he noticed the seats were torn and there was graffiti everywhere. This was something he had never seen before on an EL train, 'What's going on?' he thought, 'Nothing's what it's supposed to be!'

As the train passed north of the loop and approached the Chicago River, Mark looked in disbelief as the Chicago _Sun-Times_ building wasn't there anymore. Instead, there was a big pile of rubble and debris. Judging by how it looked, it was also being used as an illegal dumping ground for all sorts of trash. As he stared out the window of his train, he could see that this wasn't something new and whatever happened to The Sun-Times building had occurred some time ago. 'My God, what's happened to everything?' he thought, 'This isn't the Chicago I know!'

Getting off the train at the Merchandise Mart Station, he walked the four blocks to McGinty's and noticed that some buildings weren't there anymore. A large parking lot occupied what had been a group of small mom and pop stores, and there was graffiti everywhere on the remaining boarded up buildings. He turned the corner on Illinois Street and saw McGinty's, or at least that's what the sign said. Graffiti was written all over the building and just as Marissa had said, there were people lying out on the sidewalk in front of it.

After seeing the outside of McGinty's, he quietly begged, "Oh, God, please wake me up from this nightmare." Finally getting his wits about him, Mark checked to see if his key still fit the door and opened it. His jaw nearly hit the floor upon seeing the inside of the bar.

\-------------

**CHAPTER THREE**

After entering what appeared to be McGinty's, Mark was in a state of shock. This could not possibly be the bar that Gary and Marissa owned. Looking at the back area, he spied, instead of pool tables and chairs, a small stage and mirrors, surrounded by cheap prints in collapsing frames of scantily clad women in very suggestive poses. The front bar section was falling apart and the side bar had a large gaping hole where someone had apparently kicked it in. The wood floor had all manner of stains and burns on it and was in bad need of varnish. One door to the kitchen was off its hinges and the glass on the office door was cracked from what seemed to be a gunshot.

He stumbled over to the first chair he could collapse on and shook his head, "Gary! I've got to call Gary!" Getting up, Mark ran over to a payphone, dialed Gary's phone number and got a recording, "The number you have dialed is not a working number, please check the number you have called or wait for an operator to assist you." He decided to wait and speak to the operator, "Yes, operator?" I'm trying to call a Mr. Gary Hobson of Chicago, but seem to be having some trouble getting through. Could you try and connect me? Yes, I'll hold...what do ya mean there's nobody listed by that name? Gary Hobson, H-O-B-S-O-N! Hobson! I'm sorry, too, operator, thanks for trying." Rubbing the back of his neck, he put down the phone just as someone walked in.

"Mark?" inquired a pleasant looking blonde, "Are you okay?"

"D-do I k-know you?" he asked, hesitantly.

She giggled, "It's me, Erica! Aren't you wearing your glasses?"

"Erica?"

"Erica Paget, silly!" She looked him over and could see that he was not himself, "Did that awful wife of yours give you grief again? Honestly, Mark, why on earth did you ever marry her? All she does is belittle and humiliate you behind your back with all of the guys she fools around with. You're such a nice guy, too, trying to take care of her and her little boy. You'd think she'd be grateful to you, after all, not too many men would marry a blind unwed mother."

"Y-you know M-Marissa?"

"I wish I didn't," Erica sighed, "She's the most ungrateful bitch on the face of the earth. Why do you stay with her?"

"You'll have to excuse me, uh, Erica," replied Mark nervously, "I seem to be having some sort of mental breakdown and my whole world appears to have gone haywire!"

"I can understand that," she remarked, "I felt like that when my son, Henry, drowned three years ago. I really miss him," she paused to wipe a small tear from her eye, "And then a few weeks after that, my ex-husband, Mike, gets killed. My whole life fell apart and I've never been able to completely recover."

Mark shuddered, Marissa had told him about Henry, but he had been alive and had moved to Galena with Erica, after she left McGinty's over two years ago!

"I-I don't understand what's happened to me, Erica," he explained, "Ever since I woke up this morning, I seem to be in another world. Everything is topsy-turvy!"

"What do you mean, Mark?"

"I live in a tenement, Marissa's a bitch, the _Sun-Times_ building isn't there and the city...the city is all wrong!"

"Well, if it helps you any," she replied, "You're my best friend and I've known you for about two and a half years or so. You've lived in the same tenement apartment since you came to work here and as long as I've known her, Marissa's always been a foul-mouthed bitch. As far as The _Sun-Times_ building, it was blown up by an extremist group more than two years ago and the city is way too broke to put anything else there instead. No company wants to buy the property since most big businesses have left Chicago for elsewhere. This city's dying, you even told me that a few months ago when you said I should think about leaving, too."

Mark shook his head in disbelief. This wasn't his world, he was sure of that now, but he needed to find out why he was here.

"Do you know Gary Hobson?" he asked her, "I can't seem to get in touch with him on the phone."

Erica shook her head, "Nope, can't say I ever heard of him. Who is he?"

"A friend of mine, he's one of the own..." Mark paused for a moment and quickly asked her, "Who owns this bar?"

"Are you sure you're okay?" replied Erica, "I just thought you asked me who owns this place."

"I, uh, did."

"The Rosario crime family," she answered, "They got it from that real estate developer with the parking lots! Are you trying to quiz me or something?"

"No, I'm just really confused about a lot of things."

"Why don't I make you a hot cup of tea, Mark? You should have something to calm you before the dancers get here."

"D-dancers?"

"You really are out of it," she said, "Mark, McGinty's is a topless-bottomless joint!"

"Oh, my God!" Mark shook his head and ran out the front door, not knowing where he was headed next.

\-------------

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Mark thought he might be losing his mind. First it was Marissa, Bobby and the tenement apartment, and then it was the wreckage and rubble of the _Sun-Times_ building. Now, as he ran down Illinois Street, it was McGinty's. He didn't stop running until he reached Grant Park and sat down on a deteriorating park bench. After finally catching his breath, he looked past a dried out, graffiti covered Buckingham Fountain and noticed some of the downtown buildings weren't there anymore. Trash and litter covered what was left of the grass in the park and everything else looked as though it had been in disrepair for years. Tears ran down his cheeks as he wondered what had happened to change Chicago so drastically, "I just want to go back to my Chicago!" he screamed, "It's not supposed to be like this!"

"Meoww!"

Mark turned to his right and saw the cat, Gary's cat. "Cat! It's you! What the hell's happened?"

The cat jumped off the bench and walked a short distance, suddenly stopped and turned around, "Rowwrr!"

"You want me to follow you?"

"Meowww!"

"I hope you can show me why I'm here," he replied, "And if not that, at least how I can get back to my Chicago!"

The cat continued on it's way, occasionally turning around to see if Mark was following. Mark kept a short distance behind as it led him across the Columbus Bascule Bridge and then to Pioneer Plaza. Once at Pioneer Plaza, the cat ran over to the main entrance of the Chicago Public Library and then disappeared.

"Cat! Where the hell did you go? Why did you bring me here? Why the library?"

Not knowing what else to do, Mark climbed the steps that led to the main entrance and slowly went inside. He looked around and then, out of the corner of his eye, spotted what he thought was the cat near the public access computers. Walking over to the empty and unused area, he turned one of the computers on and began to do a search for the name, 'Gary Hobson'. In a short time, the answer on the screen was 'no match found'.

"It's like Gary doesn't exist, almost like..." Mark bowed his head and remembered his conversation with Marissa the night before, 'Oh, my God,' he thought, 'I wondered what Chicago would be like without Gary!' He looked straight up and quietly said, "Oh, God, I didn't mean it."

Mark then began to do searches on everyone he knew that had been involved somehow with Gary and found some very distressing results. Detective Marion Crumb - deceased, 1997...Detective Antonia Brigatti - deceased, 1998...Detective Paul Armstrong - deceased, 1999...Charles "Chuck" Fishman - deceased, 1996. "Dead! They're all dead!" Mark felt chills go up and down his spine, "His parents! I need to do a search for the town directory of Hickory, Indiana!"

Mark was able to find the directory for Hickory, but there were no Hobson's listed at all, "His parents don't exist, either?" The thought of this being his fault, for wondering what the world would be like without Gary, frightened him, 'Why did I even think it?'

Dejected and not knowing what to do next, Mark stumbled out of the library and wandered back to a bench at Grant Park. He sat down and held his hands to his head in anguish.

"Meoww!

-plop-

" _The Paper_!" Mark jumped for joy until he saw the headline: ' **KENNEDY KILLED** ', the date on _The Paper_ was November 23, 1963, "Is this supposed to be a joke, Cat? How's this gonna help me?"

"Meow!"

A breeze opened the pages to the metro section and the cat jumped on one of them. Mark brushed the cat away and saw the small headline he was supposed to see, ' **INDIANA YOUTH KILLED BY TRAIN, Bernard Hobson, 17** '.

\-------------

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Mark carefully read the small story, ' _Yesterday afternoon, at 3:15 PM, Bernard Hobson, 17, of Hickory, Indiana, was struck and killed by a southbound Illinois Central freight train in the Cicero train yard. The youth was attempting to cross the tracks after having jumped off a stopped Chicago bound freight train that he had illegally boarded somewhere in Indiana. According to an eyewitness, Hobson didn't see the other freight train approaching and was killed instantly. Authorities in Hickory said that Hobson had hopped the freight train in order to look for a job in Chicago._ '

"B-Bernie was killed in 1963?" Mark shuddered and turned pale, "That's impossible! Gary was born two years later!" he stared intensely at the cat, "This didn't happen! Gary's father is alive!"

"Meow."

Mark threw _The Paper_ at the cat, but missed, "Is that all you can say? Damn it, Cat, how can I fix this?"

The cat ran off and disappeared into some bushes nearby, "At least I know the how and why Gary isn't here," Mark said as he picked up _The Paper_ , "But there's something else that I can't put my finger on just yet, something that has to do with this paper and that date, something Gary told me, but what was it?"

Mark sat back down on the bench and tried to remember what Gary had told him about _The Paper_ and Kennedy's assassination, when his train of thought was interrupted by a woman's voice.

"I thought I might find you here, Mark."

Mark turned to his left and saw her, "Erica? How did you..."

"You always come here when things bother you," remarked Erica, "And judging how you were acting back at the bar, there's a lot bothering you."

"There is, but there's nothing you can do to help me with it."

"Don't be so sure of that, Mark," she replied, "You're my best friend and that means nothing if I can't help you with any problem you've got. I can't count the times you've helped me, so it's my turn now," she took his hand, "Please...tell me about it."

"I couldn't...y-you wouldn't b-believe me."

"Try me."

"No," he quickly replied, "First, I gotta call my Uncle Angelo and get my cousin Amma's phone number. She'll know what to do! She gets the pa..." he caught himself before mentioning _The Paper_ , "P-parts of things I don't understand."

"Mark?" she grabbed at his lapels, "What's wrong with you? Amma committed suicide four years ago! You told me about it, don't you remember? A few months back, when we were walking past the site of that building that collapsed in the construction accident on Dearborn Street four years ago. You told me that she had her bank in Philadelphia invest in the building and after it came down in that accident, the bank failed and she committed suicide. You told me that's why you moved here in the first place, to see what was left of the building that killed your cousin!"

"W-what?" Mark felt a sharp pain in his chest, "Oh, no, not her, too!"

He began to cry, "What's wrong with everything?" He picked up _The Paper_ and showed it to Erica, "Somehow, this story in 1963," he pointed to the headline about Bernie, "Changed everything that should have happened! I can't explain it to you, but Chicago isn't supposed to be like this...all because a man named Gary Hobson wasn't born!"

Erica put her arm around him, "I don't know why...but I believe you."

"Y-you do?"

"Yes, and I think we better start finding a way to for you to put it right."

\------------

**CHAPTER SIX**

"Erica," said Mark as he shook his head, "I'm not so sure I can put it right! I don't even know if I can explain to you what's happened, at least not without you thinking I'm crazy!"

"You can try."

Mark took a deep breath and placed his hand in hers, "Before I woke up this morning in this, uh, fractured timeline, for lack of something better to call it, Chicago, and my life, were totally different."

Erica was puzzled, "In what way?"

"First," he replied with a quivering voice, "I was still married to Marissa, but we had twins...the twins, oh, my God, the twins don't even exist!"

"You told me that Marissa can't have kids anymore!" Erica shook her head, "You said she had an operation to make sure of that after her child was born!"

"Maybe in this timeline," he answered, "But in mine, we were happily married and she's a loving wife and wonderful mother."

"I can't picture that, Mark," she held his hand, "She's a very angry and bitter woman."

"Not the Marissa I married," he answered, "And the city is completely different. Clean, economically strong and very proud," he bowed his head, "And from what I've now figured out, it's all because Gary Hobson was there to take care of things that weren't supposed to happen."

"There you go again with this Gary Hobson person!" Erica grabbed his arm, "Who is he and why is he so important?"

Mark thought about it and decided on telling Erica everything. Although he had never met the Erica in his timeline, he knew that she was aware of _The Paper_ and had accepted it, albeit reluctantly. He hoped that this Erica would accept it, too, once he told her about it.

"Gary Hobson is a very special man. Every single day, he's out there, saving people's lives, preventing disasters from happening and does it without any fanfare or personal gain." A small smile appeared on Mark's face.

"He sounds like Superman," Erica chuckled, "Does he have any special powers?"

Mark gave her a stern look, "No, of course not! He's a regular guy, a sort of reluctant hero. Do you know how he's able to do it?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me!"

"He does it with this!" Mark held up _The Paper_ from 1963.

"With an old newspaper?"

Mark shook his head, "No...he gets tomorrow's paper a day in advance!"

"Huh?"

"It comes with a cat and..." He suddenly stood up, "What's the use, you don't believe me! The Erica in my timeline knew about it, at least that's what I've been told." Dejected, he began walking away from her.

"Wait! Mark...I want to believe you!" She got up from the bench and caught up to him, "It's just that nothing you said makes any sense. How can anyone get a newspaper that tells the future? Where does it come from?"

"I-I can't answer either question, 'cause I really don't know." He stopped walking away and turned to face her, "But I do know he gets it and it comes to him for a reason. I sometimes help him out with it, or at least I did." He paused for a moment, "I imagine in this Chicago, and this is just a guess, things probably started going downhill for the city sometime after the fall of '96, am I right?"

"Y-yes, things began to get..." She looked at him and her eyes got wider, "Is that when this Gary person should've started getting this paper?"

Mark nodded his head.

Erica continued, "But, for some reason that you don't know, he wasn't born and no one else got that special paper...and everything's changed. Is that what you're trying to explain to me?"

"YES!" Mark hugged her, "Please tell me you believe me, please!"

"And this morning, at the bar," she quietly replied, "You acted like you'd never seen me before. I'm having some trouble understanding all of this, but are you saying I don't exist in your, um, timeline?"

"You, uh, do," Mark reluctantly answered, "But our paths have never crossed."

"So, until this morning, you'd never met me?"

"I'm afraid so," he gently squeezed her hand, "I really need to know...do you believe me?"

"I-I do."

"Thank you," he kissed her forehead, "I think I've found out why Gary wasn't born." He showed her the story about Bernie, "That's Gary's father, but this accident didn't happen! I've met Bernie and I can't explain this...except there was something Gary once told me about the day that Kennedy was shot in Dallas...I just can't remember it!"

"Well," said Erica softly, "The one thing you do know is, that this Gary Hobson couldn't have tried to stop the assassination, because he wasn't born yet. Maybe his father was supposed to stop it."

"No...wait! I remember now! The guy who got _The Paper_ before Gary! Lucius Snow! I think he flew to Dallas to try and stop it, but couldn't! He was in Dallas! That's why he couldn't save Bernie's life!" Mark was puzzled, "But if Snow was in Dallas on that day, even in my timeline, Bernie still would've died and Gary wouldn't have been born...this doesn't make any sense!"

"I wish I could help you, Mark, it seems like you have a paradox."

"Yeah, I do," Mark sighed heavily, "Maybe I'm not supposed to change things." He slowly shook his head, "After all, how could I? It's not like I could actually go back in time."

"Meowww!"

\------------

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mark turned towards the direction of the familiar sound and saw the cat sitting on the park bench he and Erica had just left, "Cat! You decided to come bac..." Mark stopped in mid-sentence when he saw what appeared to be another newspaper lying next to the cat. Grabbing Erica's arm, he brought her over to the bench, "This isn't right," he said, picking up the regular sized newspaper as the cat ran off, "This isn't the _Sun-Times_!" He looked at the date, "It can't be! It's the _Tribune_! It's tomorrow's Chicago _Tribune_!"

"Mark?" Erica was completely confused, "The _Sun-Times_ hasn't been printed in more than two years! Remember? The building was blown up and the newspaper ceased publishing!" She looked at _The Paper_ he held in his hands, "Oh, my God! It really does have tomorrow's date! It's _tomorrow's paper_!" She sat down on the bench and began shaking her head, "I only half believed you before, but now..." She looked up at him, "You really were telling me the truth!"

"Not only that, Erica," he pointed at a headline on the bottom of the front page, "This is why I got it!"

Erica read the headline, ' **STRIP CLUB FIREBOMBED, 75 FEARED DEAD** '.

Mark read the story out loud, "Late yesterday afternoon at four thirty, McGinty's, a bar and strip club located on Illinois Street in River North, was allegedly firebombed from a vehicle that was traveling westbound on Illinois. Eyewitnesses stated that the vehicle, a late model blue Ford, slowed down to a stop and a projectile was either thrown or ejected from the passenger side into the front entrance of the club, causing an explosion and igniting a major fire. The car quickly drove off after the blast. Employees and patrons were trapped inside and had no chance of escaping the 115 year old former firehouse as the blaze moved very rapidly. Chicago Fire Department officials fear as many as 75 people may have perished in the fire and Chicago Police have requested the help of the local FBI office to aid in their investigation. A spokesman from the Chicago Police stated that the firebombing may have been some type of retaliation in the ongoing gangland wars for the control of River North."

Mark looked at his watch and it read four twenty-five, "There's no time to stop the firebombing," he hurriedly told Erica, "But I think we can save everyone inside! Come on!" he grabbed her arm and led her to a pay phone, "I need McGinty's phone number! What is it?"

"Mark...you work there…you should know..."

"Damn it, Erica, just give me the number!"

"555-0126!"

Mark called and told the servers who answered the phone to calmly, but quickly, get everyone in the bar outside through the back door in the kitchen and to do it now. After she agreed to, he hung up the phone and stared at the ' **NO DEATHS AT STRIP CLUB FIREBOMBING** ' headline and It had changed and now read. He wiped his bow and looked over at Erica. She had turned pale and was beginning to shake badly, so he put his arm around her and gave her a light kiss on the cheek, "It's fine, they're all alive because of your help. I wasn't sure if the phone number would be the same in this timeline or not, so I needed you to tell me." He smiled.

"W-was it the same?"

Mark took a deep breath, "No."

Erica collapsed on the nearest bench, "Oh God."

"We make a good team, Erica," said Mark as he sat down next to her, "Um, do you think you could tell me why the, uh, Mark, in this timeline ended up marrying this Marissa?" He held her hand tightly, "I mean, only if you know or want to. I'm just a bit curious, she's so different from the one in my timeline."

"I'm not sure if you'll want to know," a small tear ran down her cheek, "You once told me it was the biggest mistake you'd ever made in your life."

"I-I want to know."

"Okay."

She kissed his forehead, "It was about a month after you'd started managing the bar. Your plan was to find a way of convincing the Rosario family to change McGinty's back into a regular bar." She smiled, "That's one of the reasons I kept working as a server in that dive. One day, Marissa came in to ask about getting a job." Her expression changed to one of regret, "Her welfare checks were going to stop coming and she was in the process of being evicted from her apartment. She needed to make a lot of money quickly and thought if she..." Erica paused, "Are you really sure you want me to continue?"

Mark silently nodded his head.

Erica shook her head, "She wanted to be a nude dancer, she'd even thought up a stage name, The _Blind Bombshell_ , but you told her no. I'm not sure if you felt sorry for her or what, but you gave her a job as a part-time bookkeeper. She still wasn't making enough money to keep her apartment, so you had her and her little boy move in with you. The child welfare people told her unless she married you, she'd lose the rest of her benefits, so you, being the nice guy you are, asked her to marry you. The Rosarios made you fire her, because, well, she wasn't very good at her job and they were upset at you for hiring her in the first place. Because of her, you had to put your bar plan on hold until you got back in the Rosarios' good graces." Erica had a few more tears run down her cheeks, "It hurt me seeing you try to help her and she not caring at all about you. I-I cared a-about you, I-I still d-do."

Mark put his arm around her, "The Marissa in my timeline is completely different. She and Gary own McGinty's and it's a real nice place, as is most of River North. She's loving, kind, has a big heart and is one of the most wonderful people I've ever known." Mark smiled, "We fell in love with each other almost the very minute we met. After awhile, we decided to marry and had the twins, Gianfranco and Cassandra," he chuckled, "Almost right away."

"I-I'm happy f-for you."

He kissed her again on the cheek and wiped away some of her tears, "From what you've told me about the Mark in this fractured timeline, uh, well, um, I-I think he may have married the wrong woman."

"W-what?"

"The Mark in this timeline should have married you."

\-------------

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Erica couldn't believe what she had just heard, that Mark thought his counterpart in this timeline should have married her instead of Marissa. A smile came to her lips and she put her arms around him.

"Oh, Mark...I-I've wanted to tell you how I felt for so long...I've been in love with you for almost two years!" She attempted to kiss him, but Mark pulled away.

"I-I meant the M-Mark that you know, not m-me!" He stood up from the bench, "Please d-don't get me wrong, y-you're a nice woman and I'm sure you'd make someone a great girlfriend or even a wonderful wife, b-but I'm married to my Marissa and I love her with all my heart."

"I'm confused." Tears formed in Erica's eyes, "You're telling me on the one hand that you should be married to me," she shook her head, "Then you tell me it's somebody who looks like you and that you love Marissa. Mark...I-I d-don't understand!"

"It's this damn fractured timeline!" He sat back down next to her, "Erica, in my timeline, we're not meant to meet and there reasons for it that I can't tell you, but what I can tell you is this, that if I can't find the way to put this mess right, that because of loyalty or whatever you'll want to call it, I have to remain with the Marissa here, even if I'm stuck in this fractured timeline for good."

"I think I understand a little," she wiped away some tears, "And I'm sure you'll find the way to put this all back to how it's supposed to be." She looked at him sadly, "It's just, well, for a moment, my life seemed to have a little hope. I've always wanted to tell you how I felt and now that I have, I feel helpless. If you put things right, we never meet and if you can't fix it, I still can't be with you...I lose either way."

Mark swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and decided on telling her the one thing from his timeline that might give her some comfort, "Erica," he said softly, "If I can somehow put things the way they're supposed to be and Gary Hobson is born," he took her hand in his, "Y-your boy, Henry, won't drown. Gary saves his life and you'll end up managing McGinty's." He placed his arm around her, "So you see, if I can fix this, you won't lose," smiling, he kissed her on the forehead, "You'll win."

"I b-believe you..." She hugged him, "Mark, you've got to find a way of stopping that Gary Hobson's father from getting killed, I'm pretty sure that's why you got that _paper_ from 1963!"

"So am I," Mark replied, "But how? I can't travel in time!"

"Maybe you can't," Erica quickly shot back, "But your paper does! It comes from the future and it seems to me, that if a newspaper can go back in time from it's present to your present, which is it's past, then it should be able to get you to 1963!"

"Uh...the funny thing is, Erica, not only do I understand what you just said," he shook his head, "But I think you're probably right!" Mark lightly bit his lip, "The question is, how?"

"Mark, it's going to be dark soon and they expect snow tonight." She put her arm around him, "Why don't you come to my place and maybe we can think of a way how, together."

"Um, Erica, I, well, uh..."

"Here," she wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to him, "This is my address. If you need some time to be alone and think about things, I understand, but I want you to come over later on. You shouldn't stay with the Marissa in this time frame and I don't want you wandering around the city in the cold and snow all night, okay?"

"Fair enough," he said as he placed her address in his coat pocket, "But I'm not sure what time I'll be there, though, I might be pretty late and I don't want you to lose sleep over me."

Erica giggled, "It's not like I have to get up for work in the morning, remember? McGinty's isn't there anymore!" She turned serious, "And besides, I won't be able to sleep until you get there."

He kissed Erica lightly on her lips and hugged her tightly, "I'll, uh, see you later, then." Mark began to walk away from Erica and towards the loop.

Erica kept watching him until he disappeared from her view, "You're a very good man, Mark Perini," she tearfully whispered, "I love you very much and I'm probably never going to see you again. Good luck."

The snow had begun to fall as Mark walked down State Street. He passed by the now boarded up Marshall Fields with it's 'For Sale or Lease' sign and shook his head. Gary Hobson had certainly made more of a difference in Chicago than anyone could've realized and as a single tear ran down his cheek, he knew his only purpose in being here was finding out how _The Paper_ wanted him to prevent Bernie's death. Making his way through the empty, cold and dark streets, Mark's thoughts were of how much he missed his Marissa, the twins and even the petty problems he was having with Uncle Angelo. All of that seemed to be light years away as a blanket of snow started to cover the dirty streets of downtown.

A song from his younger days popped into his head as he grabbed the collar of his coat to keep the cold and snow from chilling him even more than he already was:

' _Nights in white satin, never reaching the end. Letters I've written, never meaning to send_.'

He pictured Marissa as the next verse came into his head:

' _Beauty I've always missed with these eyes before, just what the truth is, I can't say anymore, but I love you, yes, I love you, oh, how I love you_.'

The song continued and seemingly got stronger as he glanced at a couple walking past him:

' _Gazing at people, some hand in hand, just what I'm going through, they can't understand_.'

His thoughts were of Uncle Angelo with the next verse:

' _Some try to tell me thoughts they cannot defend, just what you want to be, you'll be in the end_.'

The song continued a little while longer until it was interrupted by a very familiar sound.

"Meowww!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER NINE**

"Cat!" Mark chased after the quick moving feline as it darted down an alley, "Come on, Cat, I'm in no mood for this shit!" Looking down the alley, he saw it was a dead end and the cat was nowhere to be found, "Damn it, Cat, why the hell did you have me follow you here? It's a goddamn dead end!"

For the first time since he had 'arrived' in this corrupted version of Chicago that morning, Mark finally broke down and began to cry, "I g-guess I-I'm just not meant to stop Bernie from getting killed!" He dropped to his knees, "Please help me, God! I want things the way they're supposed to be! A Chicago without Gary Hobson is a nightmare! P-please help me." He continued to cry.

"People can wake up from nightmares, Mark."

"Huh?" Mark looked up and in the direction of the voice, "Who's there?"

"Choices." said an older man in a tan overcoat, "We all have choices in our lives, some good, some bad, but necessary to make. I had a choice to make over thirty-nine years ago and it wasn't the correct one. The choices you make will not only affect you, but others as well."

"Choices? What do you mean? Who are you?" The man's face was hidden by the darkness, but Mark felt as though he had met him before, "I-I know you, don't I? You seem familiar."

"Our paths have crossed before," the stranger answered, "And you helped me once, so it's my turn to repay you. The way you're seeking is just around that corner." He pointed towards the entrance of the alley. "Remember, Mark...choices."

"I d-don't understand," Mark turned away from him and looked at the alley's entrance, "Please…. tell me what you mean, I don't..." He turned back to face him, but the stranger in the tan overcoat was gone. "Shit! What the hell's going on? People just don't vanish!" Standing up, he heard a familiar sound.

"Meoww!"

Mark saw the cat waiting for him by the corner, "Okay, you damn furball, I'm coming!" He quickly made it over to the cat, "I swear...I gotta be losing my mind! People disappearing, different timelines, Bernie's death in _The Paper_ two years before Gary's birth, what else can happen?"

"Rowwrr!"

Suddenly, the special lenses on Mark's glasses began to darken as the night seemed to turn into day right before his eyes, "What the hell?"

As he stumbled on to State Street, not only was it now daylight, but it seemed to be warmer and all of the snow was gone, "This is insane! I can't..." He noticed the cars on State Street were all of an older type, but they appeared to be almost new. People were walking down street, crowds of people. He shook his head in disbelief, "There's something different here, but what?" He noticed a newsstand and walked over to it.

"Paper, Mister?" asked the vendor.

"Uh, no, I just need to get my bearings a little, that's all," he noticed the date on the vendor's papers and almost went into shock. "Oh, my God!"

"You okay, Mister?"

Mark gasped, as he couldn't believe what he was seeing in front of him. All the papers were dated November 22, 1963.

"This is impossible!" His eyes widened while looking around, "I'm in 1963! November, 1963!" He pulled _The Paper_ from his pocket, "I can stop Bernie from getting hit by the train! I can do it! I can..." His joy was short lived, however, as he looked at the headline reporting President Kennedy's assassination.

The cat suddenly appeared out of nowhere, "Meoww!"

He looked at the cat, "I won't ask how you did this, but just show me where I have to go!"

"Rowwrr!" The cat began walking quickly down the street with Mark trailing right behind it.

\-------------

**CHAPTER TEN**

Chasing after the cat in the downtown Chicago of November 1963, Mark had little time to ponder how he had somehow transversed time and instead, just concentrated on keeping up to the fast moving feline. The cat turned west on Adams Street and Mark followed it as far as the Chicago River, but not before passing by the old boarded up buildings that stood where the Sears Tower would be built in eleven years, making him smile for a moment, 'I always wondered what used to be here.'

The cat seemed to wait for him to catch up to it at the bridge crossing the river, then darted across the bridge over to Canal Street and Union Station, where it then disappeared from his view.

After pausing only a moment to catch his breath, Mark searched near the train station for the elusive tabby, "C'mon, you goddamned cat, why the train station?" He pulled the 1963 version of _tomorrow's paper_ from his pocket and again saw the headline reporting President Kennedy's killing, "Is this why I was sent here? So somebody can stop his assassination this time?" He paused to think for a moment, 'Snow couldn't stop it and he flew to Dallas.' He shook his head, 'What can I do?' He could see the large clock outside of Union Station and it read ten-thirty five. In a little less than two hours, President John F. Kennedy would be dead in Dallas, a victim of an assassin's bullet. 'I could call the local FBI office,' he thought, 'But I'm sure Snow already did that before his flight...that's probably why he flew to Dallas in the first place, nobody believed him!'

After putting _The Paper_ back in his pocket, Mark decided to go into the station to see if maybe whatever reason the cat brought him here could be inside. The station was quite crowded, but he assumed this was probably normal for a Friday. Mark sat down on one of the long benches that seemed to be everywhere in the large waiting area and looked around, 'Why did that damn cat have me follow it here? I just don't understand!'

After looking around some more, he pulled _The Paper_ back out of his pocket. Making sure that no one could see the headline, he carefully read President Kennedy's assassination story once again. 'This has to be one of the reasons I'm back in 1963!' he thought, "Maybe if the FBI had somebody else call them, somebody other than Snow, they might believe it! Maybe I'm supposed save both Bernie Hobson and President Kennedy!'

Mark noticed the train station's bar was open and decided to get a scotch. 'I know it's only a little past ten-thirty in the morning,' he thought, trying to justify his reason for wanting a drink, 'But that's only in this timeline. If I was in my own timeline, it'd be about ten-thirty at night and after the day I've had so far, I really need it!'

He sat down at the bar and ordered a scotch on the rocks. After the bartender brought it, Mark noticed his reflection in the mirror. He had not bothered to look at the clothes he was wearing, assuming that he still wore the same thing he had thrown on in his rush to leave the tenement and the other Marissa. What he saw in mirror made him shake his head in disbelief. He was wearing a black wool overcoat, which he found was covering a dark gray flannel suit, a white shirt and a narrow black tie. His glasses had thick black frames and looked like something from the "B" movies of the late 1950's. This was a far cry from the gray tweed jacket and black leather topcoat he had been wearing before.

He then checked his wallet and saw that the money he was carrying had also changed and was from this time period, 'Damn," he thought, 'I'm really here...it's really 1963!" He quickly downed his scotch and knew what had to be done. "Choices," he quietly said to himself, "I guess that's what that old man in the tan overcoat meant, that I have the choice of not only saving Bernie, but President Kennedy as well!"

Mark paid for the drink and asked the bartender where the nearest payphone was. The bartender pointed towards the entrance of the bar and Mark walked over to it and dialed "O" for the operator. "Operator? Can you connect me with the Chicago office of the FBI? Yes, I'll hold."

As Mark impatiently waited to be connected with the FBI, he began pacing back and forth, jarring loose _The Paper_ in his back pocket. He didn't notice when it landed on the floor and opened to the page still reporting Bernie's death, along with a headline that wasn't there earlier: ' **SUSPECT ARRESTED BY LOCAL FBI IN CONNECTION WITH KENNEDY ASSASSINATION** '.

Underneath the headline was his photograph.

\------------

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

The operator connected Mark with the local FBI office and someone picked up the ringing phone, "FBI Chicago office, Agent Molina speaking."

Mark spoke nervously into the phone, "Uh, hi, I-I'm calling to tell you there's going to be, uh, an attempt to kill President Kennedy in Dallas today," he looked at his watch, "In about an hour and twenty minutes. You, uh, have to either change the route of the motorcade or make sure he uses the bullet-proof bubble top on his limo!"

"Uh-huh," answered Agent Molina, "And how did you find out this information? Did somebody tell you they planned on killing the President today?"

It was obvious to Mark that the agent didn't believe him, "No, nobody told me, I-I just know, t-that's all!"

"Listen, buddy, making threats on the President's life is a serious matter and could put you behind bars for a long time!"

"I'm not making threats! I just know it's going to happen!" Mark tried thinking of a way to convince him, but was too nervous to think straight, "I'm no crack-pot! The President's life is in danger, please believe me!"

Molina motioned to another agent and wrote down on a piece of paper, 'trace this call'. "So you say this attempt on the President's life will be at..." Molina looked at his watch, "At about twelve thirty?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I said!"

"We had somebody else call our office early this morning saying something similar. He wouldn't give us his name and just hung up."

Molina paused for a moment to check on the tracing status and another agent shook his head and silently mouthed, "Not yet."

"So," continued Molina, "Are you going to give us your name or will you just hang up, too?"

'That must have been Snow,' Mark thought to himself, 'Maybe if I tell them my name, they'll believe me.' He decided on telling them, "My name is Mark Perini and what I've told you is the truth."

"Good! Now we're getting somewhere! I'll tell you what, Mr. Perini, why don't you come down to our office and we can talk some more. I'm sure you'll want to help us in any way you can."

Mark was about to say yes, when he heard a faint "Meow" at his feet. Looking down, he noticed the cat and _The Paper_ on the floor. Picking it up, he saw his picture and the headline reporting his arrest in connection with the assassination, "Maybe another time, Agent Molina, 'bye!" He hung up the phone and a single tear ran down his cheek after suddenly realizing his only reason for being in 1963 was to save Bernie Hobson's life. "Choices," he quietly said, "That's what the old man meant. I'm not here to change history, or at least this part of it." His heart became heavy with regret as he knew what tragedy the country was going to suffer today, "I-I don't understand this paper sometimes, both Snow and I were given the chance to stop it, and yet, we weren't allowed to. It-it makes no sense to me." He wiped the tear from his cheek.

"Meoww!"

He sadly looked down at the cat, "Okay, furball, you win. So I'm not supposed to save Kennedy. I guess some things, even the horrible ones, have to happen. I just wish you could somehow tell me why." He sighed, "So why did you bring me to the train station?"

The cat scampered towards the Illinois Central ticket counter.

Mark shook his head, "Train tickets?"

"Damn!" shouted Molina, "The son of a bitch hung up on me! Were you able to get Bell to trace the call?"

"Yeah," replied the other agent, "It's a phone booth at Union Station!"

"Let's go," replied Molina angrily, "I'm gonna bust that Perini bastard if it's the last thing I do!"

"I've already called the Chicago P.D.," said the other agent, "And they've got somebody in the vicinity they're sending to the train station," he shook his head, "A rookie uniformed cop we gotta meet there."

"What's his name?"

"Crumb."

\-------------

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

Mark looked at the destination sign hanging behind the Illinois Central ticket counter and saw something that caught his eye. Smiling, he knew at once why the cat had him follow it over here.

"I'd like one, one-way ticket to Hickory, Indiana, please," he told the ticket agent, "On a train that leaves sometime after four o'clock this afternoon."

"Let me see," answered the ticket agent while he glanced over the schedules, "The only train going to Hickory after four o'clock is a southbound local leaving out of Gary, Indiana. You'd need to change trains in Gary and take the number 42 local. It departs the Gary station at five fifty-five and arrives in Hickory at seven thirty-five. The connecting train from Chicago is the number 151 eastbound local going to South Bend. It departs the Randolph Street Station at four fifteen and arrives in Gary at five thirty. The fare is seven dollars and twenty five cents."

"That's fine," replied Mark as he handed him some money, "I'll take one ticket, please."

"Here you go," said the agent, as he handed Mark the tickets and his change, "Now remember, the train to Gary leaves from Randolph Street, not here."

Mark nodded his head.

"Thank you for choosing Illinois Central today and have a pleasant trip."

Mark smiled, "It's not for me, it's for...um, a friend of mine."

The ticket agent smiled back, "I hope your friend has a pleasant trip, then."

"I hope so, too," answered Mark, as he left the counter, "I really do."

Mark walked over to a bench and sat down, taking a quick glance at his watch. He knew in roughly forty-five minutes, President John Fitzgerald Kennedy would be the victim of an assassin's bullet and what made it even worse, he had to let it happen. Bowing his head down, he realized America would lose more than it's innocence and the dreams of "Camelot" today. It would lose it's charismatic leader and the hopes of the free world along with him. Mark carefully took _The Paper_ out of his pocket and placed it on the bench. 'I still don't understand why,' he thought while looking at the assassination story, 'But if it has to be, I guess it has to be. I tried, Snow tried, but now I realize what that old man meant. That old man...good Lord! Th-that must've been Lucius Snow and the wrong choice he mentioned...it was his going to Dallas! He was supposed to save Bernie that day, but made the choice of trying to save the President instead. I know I'm here to correct that,' he paused in thought, 'But why me? Surely _The Paper_ could've sent Snow back in time, too, I'm certain of that.' His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar sound.

"Meowww!"

On the bench next to him was the cat, sitting on _The Paper_ and sniffing at an article in the business section. Mark gently brushed the cat away and read the small headline, 'GM to open parts plant in Hickory, Indiana'. He smiled after realizing that Bernie needed to be back home for another reason. 'He didn't need to come to Chicago to get a job after all,' he thought, 'I gotta mention this to him!'

Mark reached inside his coat pocket, feeling for his pipe and found it, only it wasn't the nice imported Italian bent stem briar pipe Marissa had got him for his last birthday. It was a plain, straight stem pipe that, to him, looked more at home with Ward Cleaver. "Oh, well," he mused, "Any port in a storm." He began to leave and go outside to smoke it, when he noticed men smoking cigars, cigarettes and pipes inside the station. 'It's 1963," he thought to himself, 'And they haven't invented the non smoking area yet!'

After lighting his pipe, Mark looked around the station and was trying to figure out what to do next since he didn't have to be at the Cicero train yard to save Bernie for another three and a half hours. He decided to relax for a bit, and was smoking his pipe for the first time since this unsettling adventure began, when he heard a remarkably familiar voice ask,

"Is that your cat, mister?"

"Huh?"

Looking up and somewhat astonished, Mark bit his lip to keep from laughing as he couldn't believe who was standing in front of him, "Uh, w-what cat?" He answered with a slight chuckle.

"The one sitting next to you, buster!"

"It's not mine, it, uh, it must have followed me here."

The cat jumped off the bench and disappeared into the crowd.

"It better not have been yers, buster, we got laws against unattended pets in train stations, ya know."

"I'll, uh, remember that," Mark replied, still chuckling, "Thanks for pointing that out to me."

"Just doin' my job."

Mark continued to chuckle as a very young and surprisingly thin officer Marion Crumb went into the crowd, looking for the cat. "I guess even Crumb must've been young once!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

As Mark sat on the bench smoking his pipe and young officer Crumb was searching in vain for the cat, two FBI agents, Frank Molina and Kirk Parker, entered Union Station. Parker noticed a uniformed cop searching furiously for something and said to Molina, "That must be the rookie we're supposed to meet."

The two men walked to where Crumb was looking under a counter, "You Crumb?" asked Molina.

Crumb stopped his search and looked up at two men dressed in dark suits, "Who wants ta know?"

"Molina and Parker, FBI," Molina answered while flashing a badge, "Whatcha looking for? Did your doughnut roll under there?"

"Very funny," Crumb replied, "I happen to be lookin' for a cat."

"Chicago's finest!" grumbled Parker, shaking his head as Molina did likewise.

"It was breakin' the law!" answered Crumb loudly, "No unattended pets allowed in the station!"

"Do you know where the bar is, Crumb?" asked Molina tersely, "Or maybe you don't, 'cause they don't serve doughnuts."

"A little early in the day to start drinkin' boys, ain't it?" Crumb angrily shot back, "Or don't you feds care about crap like that?" He stood up and pointed, "It's over there."

"Come on, Crumb," replied Molina, "We gotta find the bar's phone booth and ask a couple of people if they witnessed somebody make a phone call."

"They bring in the feds for a friggin' phone call?"

"They do if some idiot makes threats on the President's life," answered Molina, "Especially if they're false and the idiot wants the FBI to participate in some wild goose chase. So, uh, I'd suggest you put your kitty corralling on hold and give us a hand in finding this guy."

"Yeah," Crumb replied, "I'll give ya a hand. This idiot gotta name?"

"The name he gave us was probably a fake," said Parker, "So it doesn't matter. We just need to find somebody who eyeballed him when he called us."

"Whadda we waitin' for," said Crumb anxiously, "Let's go!"

The three of them walked over to the bar and went inside. Molina flashed his badge and asked the bartender if he could recall anyone using the bar's phone booth within the last hour or so.

"Yeah," replied the bartender, "Some guy came in about ten thirty this mornin', drank down a scotch on the rocks and then asked me where the payphone was. He was the only one to use it today." His eyes lit up, "Hey! You guys are the feds...is this guy you're lookin' for some type of commie pinko?"

"Maybe. Can you describe him?" asked Parker.

"Um, let me see," answered the bartender, "Um, he was about five-eleven, maybe five-ten, in his late thirties, had dark hair and wore glasses with thick black frames. He was wearing a black wool overcoat and, I think, had on a gray flannel suit with a black tie."

"You just described half the men in Chicago," replied Molina in disgust, "Nothing else to separate him from anyone else?"

"No, I don't think so...wait! There was something else I remember!"

"What? What else do you remember?"

"He had this cat hanging around him," replied the bartender, "And after he hung up the phone, the cat scooted out and he chased after it!"

"Holy crap!" shouted Crumb, "I saw the bastard! He was sittin' on a bench near the Illinois Central ticket counter! I even said somethin' to him!"

"When?" demanded Molina, "How long ago?"

Crumb shook his head, "About twenty minutes ago," he answered, "The cat was sittin' next to him and he was smokin' a pipe!"

"I think I see him!" yelled Parker, "Is that him over on the bench, Crumb?"

Crumb quickly went over to the bar's front entrance and glanced in the direction where Mark was sitting casually smoking his pipe, "Yep! That's the guy!"

Molina brought the bartender to the door, "Is that the guy who made the phone call this morning?"

Looking at Mark carefully, the bartender answered, "Yeah, that's him."

"Good!" said Molina angrily as he rushed out of the bar, "Now let's go grab the son of a bitch!"

Mark had almost finished smoking his pipe and was preparing to leave the station when he heard a loud voice from behind him.

"Freeze! FBI, you're under arrest!"

Two men in suits and the younger version of Crumb had their guns pointed at him.

Mark raised his arms over his head, "Oh, boy."

\-------------

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

The situation surrounding Mark was something of a total surprise. Not only wasn't he expecting this, but also to compound matters, young Crumb was in on it and he immediately wondered if this might corrupt the timeline even more. 'Crumb can't find out who I am,' he thought, 'If he does, I probably won't be able to get back to my own time.' Another thought suddenly shot through his brain like an arrow hitting it's target, 'Bernie! If they put me in jail, how can I save him?' Mark knew he was in serious trouble and Gary's very existence would matter on how he handled what was now happening to him.

"Wh-what am I being arrested for?" Mark asked nervously.

"Did you, or did you not," demanded Molina, "Call the Chicago field office of the FBI this morning at ten forty-five AM with a threat on President Kennedy's life?"

"I-I called to tell you of an attempt to assassinate him in Dallas today at twelve thirty," Mark answered, "Not that I was going to kill him!"

"Be that as it may," replied Molina, "You made a perceived threat and..."

"Whoa, whoa," interrupted Crumb, "This guy called to let you know of an attempt on the President's life and you're arresting him? Did you jerks even check out his story?"

"Why?" asked Molina, "We deal with nuts like him every day. What makes him so special?"

"What if he's right?" shot back Crumb, "Did you even bother ta think of it? I may only be a rookie beat cop, but I spent four years in the United States Navy, and most of it in the Military Police, what you asswipes call the Shore Patrol. You FBI guys are supposed ta be the best friggin' investigators in the world, but I think you may've missed the boat on this one!"

"Rookies!" said Parker disgustedly, "They think they know it all!"

"Ain't that the truth," replied Molina, "Come on, let's get this scum to interrogation, I know they've got some holding cells here in the station."

Mark glared intently at Crumb and thought, 'Even in this time, you always sought the truth. You're not only a good cop, Zeke, but a good man and I now understand why Marissa wanted you to give her away at our wedding.'

Molina and Parker handcuffed Mark and took him away to the police holding area in the basement of the train station.

Mark looked at his watch and knew in less than ten minutes, President Kennedy would be killed by an assassin's bullet in Dallas. 'Crumb's gonna find out my name and then the whole time-space thingy is shot,' he thought, 'What in the hell can I do to stop it...wait!" Mark smiled and looked at Agent Parker, "You guys probably can't stand that damned know-it-all rookie, right?"

"Maybe...so what does it matter to you?"

"Well...you guys don't want him steppin' on your toes, do ya?"

"No."

"Well...send him out for doughnuts and coffee...you know he'll know where to get 'em!"

"You know," answered Parker slowly, "That ain't a half bad idea! Frank! Send the rookie out for some coffee and doughnuts!"

"Heh-heh!" smiled Molina, "Good one, Kirk!" He turned towards Crumb," Hey, rookie! Go get me and Parker some coffee and doughnuts, okay?"

"But..."

"We're in charge, rookie boy, now go get us those doughnuts!"

"Damn!" Crumb grunted, "Plain or frosted?"

Molina smiled, "Your first command decision...you make the call!"

Crumb walked out grumbling and Mark felt a little better, but how much longer could he keep Crumb from finding out his name?

"Okay, jerk, who the hell are you?" asked Parker, "I want your last name first and your first and middle names next!"

Mark looked disgusted, but he knew at least Crumb wasn't here for his interrogation. "Perini ...Mark Vittorio Perini." He looked up at the clock on the wall and it read twelve thirty-five.

Molina noticed him looking and smugly said, "It's now twelve thirty five and nothing's happened. Kirk, write up a false threat report. We're gonna nail your ass to the..."

At that moment, the phone in the police area of the train station rang and Parker answered it. His jaw dropped upon hearing the news on the other end, "Frank...th-the President's been shot in Dallas."

"Dear Lord." Molina stared at Mark, "How...how did you know?"

"Does it matter?" replied Mark angrily, "You didn't act on it. I fucking told you!"

Molina looked at Parker, "Oh, shit!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

Molina glared at Mark as he sat motionless in a chair close to the agent's desk, his arms handcuffed behind him. The furious FBI agent quickly grabbed Mark by the lapels of his overcoat, picking him up out of the chair and slamming him against a nearby concrete wall. He slammed Mark so forcefully that his glasses flew off when the back of his head hit it. Molina then drove his fist hard into Mark's stomach just as Crumb entered the room. "Take that, you son of a bitch!"

"What the hell are you doin'?" screamed Crumb, dropping the doughnuts and coffee as he raced over to pull Molina off of Mark, "That ain't no way to interrogate a suspect, no matter what the hell he may be accused of! You fellas might be the feds, but this is Chicago, not Moscow, and this guy's got rights or is that somethin' you feds suspended while I was gone?"

"Kennedy's been shot!" yelled Molina, "And this scum's involved!"

"What? shouted Crumb, "It really happened? J-just like he said it would?"

"Yeah," chimed in agent Parker, "So if we need to, we'll beat a damned confession out of him!"

"Izzat so?" defiantly replied Crumb, "Not in my city ya won't, and besides, he tried warnin' ya or did you forget? The way I see it, you FBI guys really dropped the ball on this one and are lookin' for a patsy to cover your asses. I asked you fellas earlier if ya even bothered checkin' out his story and ya just laughed it off like it was nothin'. Well guess what? It really was somethin' and if ya don't want your Washington bosses to know you jerks maybe coulda saved the President's life in the first place, you'll release this guy into my custody." Crumb put his hand near his service revolver, just in case the agents had other ideas, "I meant what I said...release him to me."

Molina grimaced and glanced over at Parker. "I'll say this for him, that rookie's got some brass balls."

"Yeah, Frank, he does," replied Parker, "But he's also right. If Washington finds out we knew about this and didn't mention it to them, not only would it be our careers, we just might end up doing some time ourselves."

Molina unlocked Mark's handcuffs and Parker handed him his glasses. The phone on the desk rang and Parker answered it, "Parker, FBI. Yes...uh-huh, I understand..." He shook his head and looked at his watch, "I'll tell Molina...yeah, we'll leave right away." He turned towards Molina, "The President is dead. We're being sent to Dallas to assist in the investigation." He walked over to Mark, "Somehow, you knew...you knew it was going to happen. So...do you know who did it?"

Mark thought for a moment and decided it wouldn't do him any good to say anything else. Slowly shaking his head, he quietly answered, "No, I don't know."

"Nah," said Molina, "I didn't think you would." He turned to Crumb, "He's all yours, rookie, and as far as we're concerned, none of us have ever met." Molina ripped the arrest report out of the typewriter and tore it to bits, "This never happened. Now get his ass out of here."

"My pleasure." replied Crumb as he began taking Mark out of the office. Just as he got to the door, Crumb stopped and turned around, "Do me and the nation a favor, fellas...just find the son of a bitch who killed the President, okay?"

Molina and Parker nodded their heads.

"Come on," Crumb said to Mark, "Let's get the hell out of here."

The two of them left the police holding area and silently made their way back upstairs to the main lobby of the train station. Mark finally broke the silence and asked Crumb, "So, officer, what are you going to charge me with?"

"Nothin' to charge ya with," replied Crumb, "Ya did try and warn 'em and they chose to ignore ya. Besides, you're here and shooting was in Dallas. If ya had any part in it, ya wouldn't have tried to tell 'em about it in the first place."

"Aren't you gonna ask me how I knew it was gonna happen?" inquired Mark, innocently.

"Nah," answered Crumb, "I got a feelin' it might be some mumbo-jumbo shit I don't wanna know anythin' about." He looked at Mark, "It is, ain't it?"

Mark made a slight smile, "Yeah, I guess it is."

"So," asked Crumb as he escorted Mark to a door leading outside, "Where ya headed?"

Mark looked at his watch, "I, uh, have a train to meet in Cicero."

"Okay then," replied Crumb, "Uh...what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't," answered Mark, "And, uh, trust me...I don't think you'll want..."

"More mumbo-jumbo shit?" interrupted Crumb.

Mark nodded and as he exited the station, said to Crumb, "Take care and I'll see you around, Zeke."

"Yeah, right!" Crumb turned around and walked halfway across the Union Station lobby before suddenly stopping. "How the hell did he know my nickname?" he said to himself, "Nobody's called me that since I left the navy!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

As Mark walked outside of Union Station to hail a cab, he noticed people with tears in their eyes and some crying quite noticeably. A paperboy was holding some newspapers and shouting, "Extra! Extra! President killed! Read all about it! Kennedy Shot in Dallas!"

Mark silently shook his head and thought to himself, 'I could've stopped it...why wouldn't _The Paper_ let me?' After pondering that question a little more, he sadly thought, 'I guess whoever or whatever sends _The Paper_ needed for it to happen and I'm not supposed to question it. I'm sure it was much worse for Snow, after all, he was there and more than likely saw it as it took place. To me, it was a tragic part of history that I couldn't change, to him, it was a blown save he took with him to his grave, probably second guessing everything he did that day for the rest of his life.'

Getting the attention of a large yellow Checker cab, it pulled up to him and the driver asked, "Where to, sir?"

Mark climbed into the back seat and said, "The Cicero train yard, please."

"Sure thing, sir." The cabbie turned towards him, "Didya hear? The President's been shot!"

"Yeah," Mark answered quietly, "I-I know."

"Ya know," said the cabbie, trying to start a conversation, "It was probably them commies. They're just lookin' to..."

"I'd rather not talk about it...or anything right now, if you please," interrupted Mark, "I'm not really in the mood to talk."

"Sure," the cabbie replied, "We all need to grieve in our own way. If yours is silence, I'll respect it."

"Thanks." Mark sat in the back seat and tried to think of something pleasant to get his mind off what had happened, not only Kennedy's assassination, but the Chicago in the future without Gary. He had to save Bernie in less than an hour and a half and needed to get himself mentally prepared for it. He remembered something Marissa had told him about how she would snap herself out of a bad mood or major problems by thinking of a pleasant time in her life. The worse the problem or situation was, the more pleasant the moment she would think of. He remembered laughing at her for it, but as with most things, she was probably right and he was now willing to give it a try.

As the cab drove on, Mark began to reminisce about the first time he had asked Marissa out on a date and how he almost didn't because of his nervousness. He slowly drifted back to when he first began working at McGinty's and started escorting Marissa when she walked home at night. He smiled as he remembered one chilly night in particular. He began re-living that precious moment in his mind.

"Mark," Marissa smiled, "I'm sure you have better things to do than walk me home every night."

"No," he replied as they slowly walked down the street arm in arm, "Uh, not really, what I-I mean is...I-I know if anything was going to happen to you, you know, uh, in _The Paper_ , Gary would either drive you home or make sure you got a cab. It's just...um...well, I, uh, like talking to you."

"You talk to me all day at the bar."

"Uh, I don't talk too much, do I?" He was nervous, "I t-try not to...I mean, I try to keep it to business, mostly, don't I?"

Marissa smiled broadly, "You do."

"If you'd rather I didn't walk you home," he replied, somewhat crestfallen, "Um, I-I won't."

"It's not that, Mark," Marissa said to him, "I'm just concerned that you don't seem to have a personal life outside of the bar. You should go out...out on a date with somebody. You've never mentioned to me if there's anyone you're interested in and I know that at least two of our female servers, along with Denise Murray, the wait staff supervisor has expressed some interest in going out with you."

"Th-there is someone I-I'm, well, very attracted to."

Marissa chuckled sweetly, "Really? Who? I want details!"

"I-I can't tell you her name."

"I can understand that, Mark," she replied, "Would you at least describe what she's like to me?"

As they continued making their way down the street with his arm wrapped around hers, a light snow had begun to fall and a gentle brisk breeze blew against both of their faces.

"I-I suppose s-so," Mark nervously answered, "She's the most intelligent woman I've ever met. Sh-she's kind, considerate and has a heart of gold. She has a smile that lights up a room whenever she's in it. She's simply the most wonderful woman I've ever known." He stopped walking and turned towards her, "Of all the souls I've met in my journey on this God's earth, her soul is the most gentle."

"You're in love with this woman, Mark," she replied, smiling, "And you should let her know how you feel."

"I-I can't," he answered, regretfully, "I'm sure she wouldn't return my feelings."

"Are you sure of that? Any woman would be proud and honored to be loved by you," she paused, "Any woman."

"No, not me...and besides, I'm sure she wouldn't be interested."

"Mark! You listen to me! You have a lot to offer to someone and if this woman isn't smart enough or willing to realize that, then it'll be her loss and not yours." Marissa was adamant, "You need to tell her!"

The snow began falling a little heavier and the breeze became more brisk. He swallowed the large lump that had formed in his throat and got closer to Marissa. Overcoming every fear he had of telling her his true feelings, Mark quietly said, "I...I j-just did."

"What?"

"I just told her." He let go of her arm and stammered, "It-it's y-you."

Mark began to shudder, Marissa was strangely silent and this frightened him. "If-if I've offended or upset you in any way, Marissa, I really didn't mean to. It's just, well, I've felt this way for the past few weeks and was too embarrassed to tell you. I was afraid I'd lose you as my friend."

He lowered his head, "If you want me to resign as bar manager and leave, I will."

Marissa smiled, "You're not going anywhere, Mark! It took you long enough to finally say something to me!"

"You-you knew h-how I felt?"

"Of course I did! I may be blind, but even I could *see* you were in love with me!"

Mark smiled back, "You knew and so you sorta forced my hand tonight so I'd tell you, didn't you?"

Marissa smiled sweetly, "Uh-huh. I was getting a bit impatient with you. You're not upset with me for doing that, are you?"

"No, of course not." He nervously placed his hands on hers and quietly asked, "Do-do you think you could ever return my feelings?"

Feeling for Mark's face and then gently wiping a few snowflakes off his nose, Marissa kissed his lips, "I already do."

"Y-you d-do?" His heart now filled with joy, he shyly asked her, "Would it be alright if I now asked you out on a date? I mean...would you go out with me sometime?"

As the snow fell heavier, it began to create a small blanket of white around the two of them. Marissa kissed him again and replied, "I'd be delighted."

Mark said softly as he returned her kiss, "I love you."

************

"Here we are, sir! The Cicero train yard."

Mark was jarred back into reality by the cab driver's voice, "Uh, how much do I owe you?"

"A buck thirty, sir."

Mark handed him two dollars, "Keep the change."

"Gee, thank you, sir! Have a good day."

"I'm gonna try," replied Mark as he walked towards the freight yard, "Boy, am I gonna try!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Mark poked and prodded around the Cicero train yard for about thirty minutes until finally finding the Illinois Central freight tracks that ran to Chicago from northern Indiana. The train yard was unusually silent and he attributed this to Kennedy's assassination. The train yard workers were union employees and had heavily supported Kennedy in the 1960 election. Mark was fairly certain most of them were listening in shock to their radios or may have even gone home to watch the news reports on TV.

'It's no wonder why Bernie was going to be struck and killed,' he thought, 'There wasn't anyone around to warn him the other train was approaching.'

Glancing at his watch, Mark knew he had less than fifteen minutes before the northbound freight train would enter the yard. Taking _The Paper_ out of his pocket, he tried seeing if the location of Bernie's fatal accident was in the story. " _Yard Section 31_ ," he read, " _Is where the Indiana youth's death occurred_." Looking up, he spotted a sign that read ' _Section 31_ '. "Well, at least I'm in the right place," Mark said to himself, "And after I prevent him from being hit by the oncoming train, the bigger problem is convincing him to go back to Hickory without saying who I am or that I know who he is."

Mark felt the train tickets for Hickory in his coat pocket and suddenly smiled as he knew how he would get Bernie to go back home.

"I remember Bernie telling me about how as a kid, he used to love watching 'Twilight Zone' and that a few of the episodes seemed very real to him." he said quietly, "And If my memory is correct, there was an episode that had some peddler guy telling people I have what you need and gave them things they really needed at the time. There was this one guy who the peddler gave a bus ticket to Scranton. The guy who got the bus ticket laughed at him. He was unemployed and had no reason to need a bus ticket going anywhere. At that moment, the phone rang and he was offered a job...a job in Scranton. He turned back to thank the peddler, but all he saw was the door closing after the peddler had left out of it."

Mark grinned and thought, 'I'll act like that peddler and ask him why he's in Chicago. When he tells me it's to look for a job, I'll ask him where he's from. When he says Hickory, I'll act surprised and mention that I had bought a ticket to go there because of the new GM parts plant that's gonna open and show him the article in _The Paper_! I'll give him the train ticket and tell him to go get a job! This'll work!'

Mark had a look of confidence on his face that slowly began to fade when he spotted the freight train approaching. Taking a deep breath and then exhaling, he said to himself, "Okay, Perini, you know what you've got to do." He slowly shook his head and then looked up, "God, please help me do this right. So many people will live or die depending on what I do next...Bernie...Gary...and hundreds of others whom I don't know. Please give me the wisdom to say and do the right things."

The freight train slowed to a stop and as it did, a boxcar door opened and out popped a lanky kid who seemed very out of place. Mark smiled softly upon seeing it was a seventeen-year-old Bernie Hobson. Racing over to him, he pulled Bernie back from the track just as he started to cross.

"Hey, Mister!" yelled the young Bernie as he tried breaking away, "What the heck are you tryin' to do?"

"Kid, what I'm trying to do..." Mark's reply was cut short by the thunderous sound of a freight train barreling down the track that Bernie was about to step on, suddenly appearing out of nowhere and rushing past the both of them.

After it passed by them, the younger version of Bernie had a look of shock on his face, "If-if you didn't grab me out of the way...I coulda been hit! Wow! Thanks, pal! I don't get it, though...I didn't see or hear it comin' and you were right here with me...h-how did you know?"

Mark quickly thought of an excuse, "I come here all the time and know the schedules. That was a freight bound for Indianapolis. It always zooms through at about this time of day and when I saw you jump out of that boxcar, I knew you wouldn't see it. I had to stop you from maybe getting run over."

"Thanks, pal, you probably saved my butt."

Mark grinned, "Probably. So tell me...what's your name and why are you hopping freight trains?"

"Bernard Hobson," the lanky youth replied, "But my friends call me Bernie. I came to Chicago lookin' for a job. Where I live in Indiana, there's sure as heck ain't much in the way of work."

"Where you from?"

"Hickory," Bernie answered, "Hickory, Indiana. The middle of nowhere."

Mark grinned, "Ya don't say..."

\-------------

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

"Come on, kid," said Mark with a grin, "Let me get you a cup of coffee and we'll talk a bit about your hometown. In fact, I'm on my way there today."

"I could sure use a cup," Bernie chuckled as they walked, "There wasn't a dining car on the freight I hopped."

The two left the train yard, walked the short distance to the EL stop at 54th & Cermak and boarded a train bound for the loop. While on board the EL train, Bernie looked puzzled and asked Mark a question.

"Why would anybody in their right mind want to go to Hickory? No offense, mister, but the town's in a bit of a slump and there ain't no jobs."

Mark smiled at him, "That's what you think, kid! I just read that GM is gonna open a parts plant there and start hiring guys right away." He took tomorrow's 1963 paper out of his pocket and showed Bernie the article in the business section, "See, it's in _The Paper_! Hickory was selected for new GM plant and it's expected to create sixteen hundred new jobs!"

"Well, whadaya know?" replied Bernie, "I didn't need to come here after all. Shoot! I don't have the money to get back home! I guess I'll have to hop another freight train."

"I'll tell you what I'm gonna do, kid," said Mark, "I already bought a train ticket to Hickory and it leaves this afternoon at four fifteen from the Randolph Street Station." He pulled out the ticket from his pocket and handed it to Bernie, "You take it and go home. Get yourself a job at that plant and settle down with a good woman. I'm sure a good looking fella like you has a girl back home."

"Yeah, I sorta do," replied Bernie, embarrassed, "Her name is Lois, she's sixteen and a bit of a pain in the butt, but I suppose I like her." He looked at the ticket, "Are you sure about this? What about you?"

"I'll get by," chuckled Mark, "Just do me a favor and get one of those jobs."

"I will!" grinned Bernie, "By the way, mister, what's your name?"

"My name?" answered Mark, "That's not important. What is important, is getting you to the Randolph Street Station on time. That train to Gary leaves in about half an hour. After it arrives in Gary, you'll then transfer to a south bound train going to Hickory."

Bernie laughed loudly.

Mark was puzzled, "What's so funny?"

"I always thought they should've called that city somethin' else," answered Bernie, chuckling, "Gary's a name you call your kid, not a city! If I ever get married and have a son, I swear I'm gonna name him Gary, so I'll be able to remember this day!"

Mark's expression suddenly turned serious, "I'm afraid you'll remember this day for another reason."

"And what reason is that?"

He decided not to tell him of Kennedy's assassination, "You'll find out when you get back to Hickory."

"Okay, maybe I will, but I'm still gonna use that name."

Mark thought to himself and smiled, 'So that's how Gary got his name!'

They continued to have a conversation about nothing in particular, just something to pass the time as their EL train continued towards downtown Chicago.

"Mister, we're in the loop," said Bernie, excitedly, "What EL station do we need to get off at?"

"Washington Street," answered Mark, "And then you walk three blocks east."

"Don't you mean, we walk the three blocks?"

He shook his head, "No, just you. You're the one with the ticket and your train leaves in less than twenty minutes." Mark pulled out his wallet and took out some cash, "Here's twenty bucks, Bernie, you'll need some money to help you get by until the plant opens."

"Gee, thanks, mister! " replied Bernie, happily, "Maybe I'll take Lois to the movies tonight!"

Mark smiled, "You go ahead and do that...on me!"

The pair got off the EL at Washington Street and shook hands, "Take care, Bernie."

"You, too, mister, whoever you are."

Watching the young Bernie Hobson walking towards the train station, Mark finally realized why he was in 1963. "In the other timeline, Erica said she thought I had a paradox," he quietly mused, "But I'm sure there never really was since I guess I was supposed to be here to save Bernie in the first place. It's just a coincidence that Marissa and I mentioned a Chicago without Gary." He shook his head, "At least I hope it was!"

Mark's thoughts were interrupted by a familiar sound, "Meowww!"

"Hey fella," Mark said, "It's sure good to see you! Now can I go home?"

The cat looked up at him and cocked it's head to one side, "Rowwrr."

"I do have a favor to ask you, though," said Mark, quietly, "Just one little side trip before I'm back in my own time. There's a little something I want to do for somebody who helped me out once."

The cat meowed and scampered over to an alley with Mark trailing right behind. He turned around the corner and found that he no longer was in 1963, in fact, he wasn't even in Chicago.

\------------

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

"It's a park in a small town! The Cat or whoever sends _The Paper_ was able to do it!" Mark barely had the time adjusting to his new surroundings when he heard a familiar sound.

-plop-

"Meoww!"

Immediately turning to his right, he spotted the cat about ten feet away, sitting on a park bench with a small newspaper underneath it's paws. He walked over to bench, picked up _The Paper_ and grinned when he read the masthead and date, ' _The Galena Gazette, August 10, 1999_ ', He saw the story he was hoping to change, ' **GALENA WOMAN ARRESTED IN EMBEZZLEMENT SCAM** '. Underneath the headline was a photograph of Erica Paget.

"I remember Marissa telling me why Erica couldn't come to our wedding," Mark said to the cat, "I'd never met her, but she told me how Erica was the bar manager before me and had dated Gary. Marissa felt badly for Erica's son, Henry, because of his mother being jailed. Nobody knew why Erica did it, but there was talk that she'd been trying to get the money to cover her ex-husband's gambling debts." He slowly shook his head, "Whatever her reasons were, I figure I owe her this. She proved to be a real help to me in the fractured timeline and maybe she isn't the witch that Gary always told me she was. All I have to do is go to the restaurant where she works, warn her that not only will she get caught and go to jail, but also lose custody of Henry. I think that should be enough to dissuade her from going through with it."

The cat looked up at Mark as though it understood every word as he read it part of the story.

' _According to authorities, the restaurant owner noticed Paget replacing the restaurant's books with some forged ones at four thirty in the afternoon. The forged books showed a net loss of $17,000 instead of the actual net profit of $34,000, which Paget was then going to wire transfer into her bank account_.'

Mark paused for a moment, looked at the cat and then continued reading.

' _The restaurant owner got wise of the scheme after checking the books and called his bank. Galena Police arrested Paget before she could complete the scam and charged her with one count of felony embezzlement and two counts of felony attempted grand theft. Paget is being held on $100,000 bond, pending her formal arraignment hearing._ '

Mark looked at his watch. The time was now two thirty PM and he had plenty of time to warn her, so he decided to go to the restaurant and see if she was anything like the Erica he had met in the other timeline. 'I'll take my time and casually watch her at work. You can learn a lot about someone if they don't know you're observing them.'

He found a phone booth and read the yellow pages for the address of 'Ted's Galena Grill'. After finding the restaurant's location, Mark asked for directions on how to get there at a gas station and walked the three blocks down Main Street where they told him it was.

He entered the bustling restaurant almost unnoticed and sat at a lunch counter that doubled as a bar. The wait staff seemed to be quite frazzled and acted as though they were frightened of doing anything wrong. It didn't take Mark long to find out the reason why. In back of the counter, standing next to the kitchen doors, was Erica, screaming and threatening each member of the staff with dismissal if they didn't work faster or harder.

"Management by intimidation," he said to himself, "Is the worst way of running any type of business. I don't understand this at all. In the fractured timeline, she was timid and shy, even somewhat lovable. In the real timeline, she's..." He stopped to rub his forehead and then continued his thoughts, 'She's just the way Gary described her. Even if I did try warning her, she would probably think of another way to steal the money. Just like the Marissa in the other timeline was so completely different than the one I married. This Erica is exactly opposite of the one I met and liked. I suppose this means your personality is shaped by whatever events have happened in your life, good, bad or ugly.'

Mark then thought about what Lucius Snow had said to him in that alley, 'Choices. The choices you make will not only affect you, but others as well.'

Mark pulled tomorrow's _Galena Gazette_ out of his back pocket and read Erica's arrest story one more time. Getting up from the counter, he looked over at Erica, still yelling at her staff and thought, 'I really feel sorry for you.' He walked away from the counter and tossed _The Paper_ in a trash can as he left the restaurant.

\--------------

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

As Mark walked the streets of Galena, Illinois in August of 1999, he came to an abrupt realization. 'Some things are meant to be,' he sadly thought, 'And, after being put in jail, hopefully Erica will learn humility and how to be the type of person that I know she has the capability of deep inside. I just hope I made the right choice, I mean, what or who gives me the right to change things from what's supposed to happen? I know Gary gets The Paper in order for him to do that, but he saves lives and prevents accidents. The things I wanted to change had already happened...Gary changes things that haven't really occurred yet, so I guess that's the difference.'

"Meoww."

Mark glanced down and saw the cat looking up at him.

"I was supposed to find that out for myself, Cat, wasn't I? I mean, it's okay to change the future as long as it's for the right reasons, like saving someone from getting hurt or making sure something tragic doesn't happen." He shook his head. "I was selfish and wanted to change the past for the wrong reasons. Bernie Hobson could've been killed because I didn't realize that until it was almost too late."

The cat continued looking up at him.

"I wanted to believe that Erica was just like the one I met in the other timeline, but she wasn't. Her arrest has to happen and I can't stop it, nor should I. I'd lost sight of my real reason for being sent back in time in the first place, which was to correct the timeline and make sure Gary Hobson exists."

"Rowwrr."

"I'm glad you agree, Cat. Now, please...get me home."

The cat ran towards an abandoned building, turned a corner and disappeared. Mark followed suit and suddenly found himself outside the front of McGinty's. His face lit up as he looked around the building to see if it was the same as he remembered. 'Home! I'm really home!' Checking the angle of the sun, he knew it was early in the morning and glanced at his watch to see the time. "It's six thirty in the morning," he chuckled, "I guess _tomorrow's paper_ isn't the only thing the cat delivered on time today."

After entering McGinty's, he immediately climbed the stairs to the loft and went inside. Marissa was still sleeping, as were the twins. Mark silently walked over to Marissa and gently kissed her on the cheek. "I love you, Sweetstuff," he whispered in her ear, "A lot more than you could ever know." He then made his way to the twins' crib. Bending down, he softly kissed each child's forehead, 'Frankie and Cassie,' he thought, 'You little guys are my life and it wouldn't be worth living at all without you both in it.'

Marissa awoke to the sounds and smells of breakfast being made. Mark was probably playing with the twins at the same time, she guessed, judging by the giggling and joyful noises they were making.

"Good morning, my love," said Marissa, cheerily, "You're up early."

"Good morning, Sweetstuff," Mark happily replied, "I hope you don't mind, but I thought I'd make you breakfast in bed today."

Marissa smiled, "Now why would I mind something as wonderful as that? Any particular reason?"

Mark walked over to her as she sat up in bed. "No reason." He sat down on the edge of their bed and took her hand, "Well, maybe there is a special reason."

"Now I'm curious, Mark," she replied, somewhat puzzled, "What's this special reason?"

He kissed her. "Because I love you, I'm married to you and have the most wonderful kids in the world. If that's not special enough to make you breakfast in bed, I don't know what is."

She felt for his face and returned his kiss, "You're right, my love. It is special."

"I'm going to get your breakfast tray and bring it over. I made your favorite, blueberry pancakes and sausages."

He brought the tray over and told her the locations of the food, "The pancakes are at three o'clock and the sausages are at nine." Generally, he didn't need to tell Marissa the food locations on her plate, but since she was not used to eating in bed, he wanted to make it easier for her.

"Thanks, Mark, I don't want to make a mess in bed with my breakfast."

"Hey! Anything for you!" He kissed her. "I, uh, have a somewhat stupid question...if it's none of my business, you don't have to answer it."

"I'd never conceal anything from you, Mark, you know that. What's your question?"

"When you were at Strauss and Associates..." Mark took a deep breath, "Wh-when you were, um, a receptionist, did any of the brokers ever, um, try to, uh, hit on you. You know, pester you for a date?"

Marissa smiled, "Why the sudden interest?"

"No reason. I was just interested in knowing, that's all."

Marissa's smile faded, "Well, there was this one broker, but no...I don't think you'd be interested in hearing about it since nothing really happened."

"Try me."

"Okay," she answered, "His name was..."

\------------

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

"His name was Robert Kirkwood," said Marissa, "But everyone called him Bobby. He was one of the most unscrupulous brokers in the firm and made a lot of money. The vice-president in charge of the trading floor was a man named Phil Pritchard and he thought Bobby was the greatest broker in the city and could do no wrong."

She took a sip of her orange juice and continued, "Bobby tried asking me out on a date almost every day, but I'd always say no to him," she smiled, "He just didn't appeal to me. I then thought if I said yes and went out on a date with him, maybe he'd leave me alone. I'd planned on saying yes to him the next time he asked me, but I never got the chance."

"Why not?" asked Mark. "I thought the guy asked you out every day."

"After I finally decided that I'd go out with him," Marissa replied, "I accidentally overheard Gary reading Bobby the riot act while on my way to ladies' room. Gary was telling him to leave me alone or he'd punch his lights out. Bobby asked Gary what business it was of his and why he would even care about the little blind girl. He was only interested in having a little fun and besides, Bobby asked Gary, wasn't he at all curious how a blind woman was in bed? Gary got angry and hit him. I'm not sure how hard it was, but Bobby was in a lot of pain, that much I could tell."

Marissa took another sip of her juice, "After that, Bobby never bothered me again. A few months later, Bobby suddenly left the firm and moved out of town. It turns out that he had gotten one of the women in the accounting department pregnant and wanted nothing to do with her or the baby."

Mark shook his head and gave Marissa a kiss.

"I've often wondered what would've happened if Gary hadn't stepped in and stopped him from pestering me," she smiled, "But I don't think that Bobby would've talked me into his bed. I've never been that kind of a woman."

"I'm sure you wouldn't have let it get that far, Sweetstuff," said Mark and shook his head again, "You're way too smart for somebody like that Kirkwood guy to take advantage of you."

Marissa smiled. "I'm glad you think so. It's almost funny in a strange way, you know. I didn't know Gary that well back then. He'd been with the firm for about two years and I'd only been the receptionist for a few months. Even then, before he got _The Paper_ , he was always trying to help out people and looking to prevent bad situations from occurring."

Mark smiled, "Do you remember what we'd talked about last night before we went to sleep, Sweetstuff? How it's possible that Gary really hasn't changed things that much in Chicago since he got _The Paper_?"

"I remember," she replied, "And as I recall, we both didn't think he made that much of a difference in the big picture."

"I think I'll change my mind about that," said Mark, "I believe Gary has made a major difference in this city, a lot more than anyone could ever know."

"I'm curious, my love," Marissa asked, "Why the sudden change in your opinion?"

Mark smiled, "Let's just say I slept on it."

"Okay," Marissa smiled, "Sometimes, Mark, I just can't figure you out."

He kissed her and grinned, "But you love me, anyway."

"I suppose." Marissa began to laugh.

"One other thing, Sweetstuff," said Mark, softly, "I think I'm gonna call my Uncle Angelo today. It's about time he and I made our peace with one another. After all, he's gonna be here in a few months for Gary and Amma's wedding and I want everything to go smoothly for the both of them."

"You're a decent man, Mark Perini."

"Maybe, maybe not," he replied with a grin, "But I think it's time Uncle Angelo met you and the twins, don'tcha think?"

Marissa smiled, "Yes, I do.

"Good! After I call him, I need to go to the produce market and look over the veggies. That last shipment they sent us wasn't particularly fresh and I ended up throwing most of it out."

Gary sat in the kitchen of his apartment, sipping his morning coffee and reading tomorrow's paper to see what his saves would be for the day. The phone rang and he got up to answer it.

"Amma! Good morning to you, too."

Gary turned away from the kitchen and continued talking on the phone as the cat climbed, unnoticed, onto the table, "No, not much at all in _The Paper_ today, Amma. I just have to finish reading the metro section and I'm done. So far, there's just a small accident by a produce market, nothing important. It might not even need my attention."

The cat let out a feint meow while sitting on a page of _The Paper_. Underneath it's paws and unseen by Gary, the story about the small accident at the produce market had changed to a headline that now read, ' **PRODUCE MARKET ACCIDENT KILLS MAN** ', along with a picture of Mark.

"Rowwrr!

\------------

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

"Yeah, Uncle Angelo, it was good to talk to you again, too," said Mark on the telephone, "Marissa and I can't wait for you to come here and meet her and the twins...yeah, I know, Amma thinks the world of her and you will, too, once you meet her...uh-huh...so, I'll call you next week. Take care." He smiled broadly after putting down the phone, "That went rather well, Sweetstuff. He can't wait to meet you and the twins!"

"Well, Mark, with Amma acting as our public relations specialist," Marissa chuckled, "We couldn't lose! You know how determined she can be once her mind is made up about something!"

Mark laughed, "That's for sure!" He walked over to Marissa and gave her a big hug and kiss, "I'm gonna go to the produce market now, Sweetstuff. I've gotta make sure the next shipment is fresh, so I guess I'll put a little bit of friendly pressure on that market manager." He grinned, "You know, just tell him that he doesn't have the only produce market in town and if they want future McGinty's business, they'd better improve on what's sent to us."

A look of concern quickly replaced the smile on Marissa's face, "Just be careful, my love. I've heard from some other restaurants that...um, well, that market has a reputation of playing rough with clients who've complained. The reason we've been dealing with them for so long is that the old contract Chuck originally signed was renewed by Erica. I told her not to re-sign it, but she did, anyway. I've always suspected that they gave her some type of kickback to do it, but I could never prove it." She felt for his lips and kissed them, "Please watch what you say and don't give them any reason to...um ...get upset with you."

"I won't, Sweetstuff," he replied, smiling, "Let's just say I've learned to appreciate my life a little more after last night."

"Mark? I don't understand."

"That's okay, Sweetstuff," he chuckled, "I'm not sure I could explain it to you. I'll be back in about two hours and I don't want you to worry, okay?" He kissed her and then walked out the door.

"I think the cat wants my attention, Amma," said Gary on the telephone, "It's meowing on the table with _The Paper_."

"You'd better go see what it wants, Gary," replied Amma on the other end, "It could be important."

"Okay, just hold on and I'll be right back, Amma."

Gary put down the receiver and quickly walked over to the table. Picking up the cat, his eyes widened as he saw the new headline reporting Mark's accidental death. Grabbing _The Paper_ , he ran over to the telephone, "I-I gotta go, Amma. A n-new story's in _The Paper_ , one that wasn't there a few minutes ago!"

"What is it?" Amma asked.

"Um, th-that accident at the p-produce market n-now results in one death!" Gary didn't want her to know that the reported death was Mark's.

"I understand, Gary," she replied, "Do you need any help with it?"

"Uh...no," he quickly answered, "I-I can handle it. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay, Gary, just be careful and make sure you call me. You've got me a little worried, you know. You don't sound all that convincing to me that you can handle this story on your own. Maybe if you don't want my help, you should call Mark, you know he's always there ready and willing to help."

"Uh...yeah," Gary replied nervously, "Maybe I'll do that...look, Amma, I gotta go, okay?"

"I love you, Gary Hobson."

"I love you, too, Amma, 'bye!" Gary hung up the phone and quickly called Mark and Marissa.

"Hello? Oh hi, Gary!" said Marissa after answering the phone, "Mark? No, my hubby's out, he left to go the produce market about ten minutes ago...Gary? Are you there? Gary? I suppose we got disconnected."

Gary had dropped the phone while rushing out the door on his way to West Side Produce on Fullerton Avenue.

*************

The sun was bright that morning and the reflection off the previous evening's snowfall had caused Mark's glasses to automatically darken to their deepest shade. Even while wearing his special glasses, very bright light still bothered him and after he pulled into the parking lot of West Side Produce, he lightly rubbed his eyes. Mark slowly got out of the McGinty's van and walked over to the business office of the market. He was determined to get better produce and if that wasn't possible, at least to nullify the contract and be free to look for the bar's produce elsewhere.

After asking around for the manager, Mark was introduced to a balding, short and portly man, who was smoking a very bad smelling cigar.

"Louie Oxnard's the name!" said the man as he shoved his hand into Mark's, shaking it wildly, "What the hell can we do for ya?"

"Perini, Mark Perini," answered Mark, "I'm from McGinty's...we have a contract with you."

"Oh, yeah," replied Oxnard, "Da dump on Illinois Street." He glared at him, "What? You got's a problem or somethin'? Don'tcha like what we sends ya?"

"To be honest, no."

"Ya got's a contract!"

Mark smiled nervously, "That's what I'd like to talk to you about."

"Oh, ya do, do ya?" Oxnard whistled loudly and two large produce workers suddenly appeared next to him. "Chester and Eric," announced Oxnard, "And they get upset when people don't likes what we send 'em, don'tcha boys?"

The two thugs nodded their heads.

Mark suddenly didn't feel very safe.

"I thinks da four of us got's to have a little talk," remarked Oxnard with a menacing grin, "Grab 'im!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

Gary knew that Mark's accident would occur around nine thirty that morning and glanced down at his watch while he drove. The time was now eight forty and that, under normal circumstances, would give him plenty of time to get to Chicago's West Side from River North, but the rush hour traffic was much worse than normal and his Jeep was moving no faster than a snail's pace past Lincoln Park on his way to Fullerton Avenue.

While waiting for traffic to move again after having come to a complete standstill, Gary grabbed _The Paper_ off the passenger seat and re-read the story about Mark's accident: ' _At nine thirty yesterday morning, Mark Perini, 39, of Chicago, was crushed to death by a dumpster that was being emptied outside West Side Produce, located near the 4800 block of Fullerton Avenue. A Chicago Police spokesman announced that Perini's death was "a very tragic accident". According to an eyewitness, Perini, the manager of McGinty's Bar on West Illinois Street, had been in a meeting with the manager of the produce market and stepped outside to look at a shipment of vegetables that just arrived. At that time, reported the witness, the dumpster broke free from it's harness as it was being lifted in the air by a waste removal truck and fell on Perini. The unidentified truck driver from the waste removal company, Molina's Trash Service, has not been charged, pending the outcome of an investigation by Chicago Police. Perini is survived by his wife Marissa, 35, and children, Gianfranco and Cassandra, both age nine months, all of Chicago_.'

Gary threw _The Paper_ back on the passenger seat, looked at his watch and slammed both fists on the rim of his steering wheel in frustration. "Come on, people! Move!"

Not having moved an inch in ten minutes, Gary noticed the large open expanse of Lincoln Park to his immediate right and made a snap decision. He suddenly turned the Jeep's wheels sharply towards the park and began driving on grass, quickly gaining speed as he continued northwest towards Fullerton Avenue. 'I know this is illegal,' he thought while horns began blaring from the cars stuck in the traffic jam on the street watching him, 'But it's my only choice! I've got to save Mark's life!'

*************

The two thugs each held one of Mark's arms as they followed Oxnard to an empty and unused part of the produce market.

"Now what we got's here," grunted Oxnard while blowing cigar smoke in Mark's face, "Is a failure to communicate. Youse got's a contract that's signed and all legal like. So's youse got's to pay and we got's to deliver. If ya don't like what we sends youse," he grinned, "That's yer problem. I think he needs to be taught that, boys." Oxnard spit the cigar out of his mouth and crushed it with his foot.

"You guys wouldn't hit a man with glasses, would you?" asked Mark innocently.

"Nah, they wouldn't do that to ya, buddy," chuckled Oxnard, "So here's what we'll do!" He grabbed the glasses off of Mark's face and one of the thugs then slammed a fist into Mark's stomach.

"Told ya they wouldn't hit a guy wit' glasses!" Oxnard laughed as Mark doubled over in pain.

*************

Gary had been able to drive his Jeep on the grassy surface of Lincoln Park until he got near the zoo. Turning on to Stockton Drive, he continued on until it intersected with Fullerton and he made a left to head west. Since he was going against the flow of rush hour, traffic conditions had now improved and Gary found he could go the speed limit. 'I just hope no one reported my shortcut to the police on their cell phone,' he thought, 'That'd be all I need to have happen.' He continued west on Fullerton for about five minutes until he heard the one sound he was hoping he wouldn't, the loud screeching of a police siren coming up quickly behind him.

"Damn!"

**************

Chester and Eric continued to pound Mark with punches while their smiling boss looked on. "I think he's had enough, fellas," said Oxnard, "I think he now knows not to complain and ta live up to da contract, don'tcha, McGinty boy?"

The thugs stopped hitting him and Mark, in pain, glanced over in Oxnard's direction as he asked again, "Well, how 'bout it, McGinty boy? Answer me!"

Mark took what strength he had left, spit at Oxnard and answered, "Go fuck yourself!"

"Tsk-tsk! Some people just don't know when to quit!" Oxnard snapped his fingers, "Take it from the top, fellas!"

\--------------

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

Glancing up at his rear view mirror, Gary saw the flashing lights of the fast approaching police cruiser and made a fateful decision. Gripping the steering wheel as tight as he could, he jammed his foot on the accelerator and proceeded to quickly move away from his pursuer. The feeling of speed only added to the rush of adrenaline that was coursing through him as he drove the Jeep like he was a racer in the Indianapolis 500. A very brief glance in mirror caused the adrenaline rush to cease as he noticed the squad car was now directly behind him and closing the gap between them quickly. The police car began to overtake Gary's Jeep and moved to the left side of him, now matching his speed.

Gary remained focused on his driving and didn't look over at the cop car until he heard a very familiar voice bellowing at the top of his lungs, "Hobson!"

Finally looking over at the police cruiser, Gary was shocked to see who was sitting in the passenger seat with the window down and shouting out his name. "Crumb?" Gary yelled back, "I thought you retired!"

Amma had been pacing nervously in her apartment since ending her phone call with Gary twenty minutes earlier. There was something about the way Gary's attitude completely changed along with the story at the produce market that just did not sit right with her. "I hope he at least called Mark to have him lend a hand," she said to herself, "Maybe I should phone Mark and see if Gary called him."

************

Marissa answered the phone call from Amma. "Hello?...Amma! What a pleasant surprise!"

"I really hate to bother you, Marissa," said Amma on the other end, "But could I please speak to Mark? It's about a save that Gary has to do today."

"I'm afraid not, Amma," she replied, "He went to the produce market about half an hour ago. It's funny you should mention Gary...he called here about twenty minutes ago and asked for Mark, too. I'm not quite sure what happened, but as soon as I told him that Mark went to the produce market, the line went dead. I tried calling him back, but his phone was busy."

"Marissa," said Amma quite calmly, "Uh, what produce market did Mark go to? Do you know?"

"Sure, Amma, West Side Produce on Fullerton, why do you ask?"

"Oh, uh, no reason, Marissa, no reason at all." Amma realized her suspicion about Gary's changing attitude wasn't wrong and she had figured out the reason why. Gary had probably read that Mark was the person who was going to die in the produce market accident and didn't want to tell her. Not wanting to alarm or frighten Marissa in case she was mistaken, she decided on keeping this revelation to herself, "I've got to leave now, Marissa, so if you hear from either Mark or Gary, please have them give me a call on my cell phone, okay?"

"Of course, Amma," Marissa paused for a just moment and politely asked, "Is there a problem with a save today?"

"No, I just had some questions to ask, that's all. I'll call you later." Amma hung up and ran out the door to her car.

*************

Upon seeing Crumb sitting in the police cruiser driving next to him, Gary knew he had no choice but to pull over. After stopping the jeep along the curb, he looked down at The Paper laying on the seat next to him and then glanced at his watch. Gary knew he would need every ounce of boyish charm he possessed to talk his way out of this predicament and to compound matters, there were only forty minutes left to save Mark's life.

After putting _The Paper_ in his back pocket, Gary opened the driver's side door and exited the jeep, instinctively placing his hands on top of his head.

Crumb and a uniformed officer quickly made their way over to him.

"Geez, Hobson!" said Crumb loudly, "Can't you ever stay out of trouble?"

"What about you, Crumb?" quickly answered Gary, "Can't you stay retired?"

"I'm still retired, Hobson," Crumb replied, "I just go on these ride-along thingies once in a while. It's some program the city has for regular folks to see what cops have to deal with on a daily basis." He chuckled, "It sorta makes me feel like I'm on the force again."

"Once a cop, always a cop!" replied Gary.

Crumb shook his head, "That doesn't tell me why you was breaking every traffic law in the city just now, does it? Are you gonna tell me," Crumb pointed to the uniformed cop, "Or do you want take a chance with him?"

Understanding what options he now had, Gary winced and decided to talk to Crumb, "I have to get to West Side Produce in a hurry, Crumb. My bar manager may be in serious trouble!"

"What? Perini?" answered Crumb, "He's mixed up with those bums?"

"We still have that stupid contract with them that Chuck signed."

Crumb shook his head, "Let me guess...this is one of them heebie-jeebie feelin's of yours again, isn't it?"

"Do you really want to know, Crumb?"

"Nah," he quickly answered, "But I'll tell you this, Hobson, I've learned to respect them feelin's of yours over the years." He gave Gary a stern look, "And don't even ask me why, okay?"

"I won't."

Crumb looked deep into Gary's eyes, "You really believe Perini's in trouble, don't you?"

Gary nodded his head.

"Let me talk to the uniform here and see what I can do, okay, Hobson?"

Gary made a slight smile, "Thanks, Crumb."

\-------------

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

Marissa had an uneasy feeling after Amma's phone call. It was very unusual for Amma to mention one of Gary's saves to her and that, along with her asking what produce market Mark had gone to, made her suspect the save Amma had questions about might have something to do with her husband. She thought of picking up the intercom to have Denise come up to the loft and watch the twins so she could catch a cab to the produce market, but changed her mind. "I promised Amma I'd have either Mark or Gary call her if they got in touch with me," she said to herself quietly, "And if I leave here, I won't be able to do that. I just hope I'm wrong about this..." She suddenly remembered Gary's phone apparently going dead after she told him that Mark had gone to the produce market and shuddered. "Oh, God...Mark's in some sort of trouble, I'm quite sure of it, but what can I do? I don't know what's going to happen or when!"

She tapped her cane over to the twins' playpen and listened as they played together. Bending over them, she spoke in a soothing tone that was meant more for her own reassurance than the twins', "There's no need for you to worry, your daddy is going to be fine, mommy is going to say a little prayer for God to watch over him." After having finished her prayer, Marissa sat in the rocking chair next to the telephone, her hands clasped together while waiting for a call, but half wishing the phone wouldn't ring.

************

Amma drove north on the Kennedy Expressway, her speed at least ten miles an hour over the limit. When she and Mark used to live in Philadelphia, he would kid with Amma about her "reckless" driving habits. The truth ended up being that Mark was right after she had been in a small accident six years ago. Amma had resolved to become a more careful driver and actually had been one since, but now, with her cousin's life in apparent danger, her driving resembled her pre-accident style. She kept looking around for the exit that said 'Fullerton Avenue West' and wasn't paying attention to the vehicle about two hundred feet in front of her that had suddenly stopped short on the expressway.

************

"The kid's a bit strange," Crumb said to the uniformed officer, "And to be honest, so's his family and most of his friends, but I know him and if he says there could be some trouble at West Side Produce, I believe him!"

"I understand you know him, Zeke," the officer replied, "But he broke about twenty traffic laws and you know I have to arrest him! Besides, how could he know about anything happening at West Side? We've been trying to bust those bastards for five years and our informants haven't said a damn thing that I know of!"

"He..." Crumb carefully chose his next words, "Owns a bar and hears things. You know what I mean, bums and crooks have a few drinks and then say things, stuff like that."

"We could send a patrol car to check it out, Zeke, you know that," said the officer, "I have to arrest him!"

Glancing at Gary and remembering the many times Gary had helped him out in the past, Crumb got an idea, "How 'bout this, Shaunessy? We all go to West Side, I'll ride with him and you follow behind. If nothin's goin' on there, you take him in. If somethin' is going down, you take him in afterwards."

"If I go along with this," replied the officer, "You'd better give me the credit for busting those creeps. It'd be a major feather in my cap to get those guys behind bars."

"Of course the credit would be yours," smiled Crumb, "I'm retired, remember?"

"And either way, I still get to arrest this Hobson guy on the traffic violations, right?"

"Absolutely!"

"Well, Zeke, it's against my better judgment," said the officer, "But I'm sure you know what you're doing. We'll do it your way."

"Great! Let me go tell Hobson!" Crumb then walked over to Gary, "You can put your arms down now, Hobson, you'll need 'em to drive."

"Howzat?"

"Drive, Hobson!" Crumb said with a smile, "You and I are goin' to West Side and the uniform will follow us."

"Wait a minute, Crumb," winced Gary, "Whadaya mean you and I?"

"I'm riding with you! It was the only way I could get Shaunessy over there to agree to you goin'," said Crumb, "Oh...and that he'll arrest you later for the traffic violations."

"Thank you very much, Crumb," said Gary through gritted teeth, "You're all heart."

"What? You'd rather he arrest you now so's you don't get a chance to help Perini?"

"No, of course not," replied Gary as he looked at his watch, "So we'd better get going."

As two of them climbed into the Jeep, Gary took _The Paper_ out of his back pocket and was about to put it on the back seat, when Crumb's eyes lit up after briefly glancing at it.

"Hobson! Ain't that a picture of your girlfriend on the front page of your paper?"

Gary gasped as it was Amma's picture underneath a headline that reported her death in an automobile accident. Looking first at _The Paper_ and then up at Crumb, time seemed to stand still as he had to think fast of what to do next.

\-------------

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

The two thugs continued pummeling Mark as Oxnard lit another cheap cigar. Satisfied that Mark finally understood his point of view, Oxnard smirked and snapped his fingers, "I think he's learned a contract's a contract, fellas, youse can stop now."

Eric put one more stiff kick into Mark's now prone body before finally stopping and roughly picking him up. Battered, bruised and with blood trickling from his mouth, he barely had enough strength to stand up, but somehow managed to.

"So, McGinty boy," said Oxnard as he blew smoke into Mark's somewhat swollen face, "Whadaya say youse forget dis ever happened and we deliver yer goods tomarra likes always?"

"Go to hell, you fucking son of a bitch," Mark defiantly gasped out, "Consider our contract null and void!"

Eric quickly slugged Mark in the face, knocking him out cold. Oxnard shook his head, "Guys like him never learn. Ya don't mess wit' da big boys unless ya know how's to play da game."

"What should we do wit' him, boss?" asked Eric, "Chester and me could take him to the train yard."

Oxnard stared at Mark's limp body, pondered for a moment and then grinned. "Nah, I got's a better idea! Ya know how's we was gonna sabotage that trash company's dumpster harness, so's we could sue 'em after da dumpster, eh-hem, accidentally fell and nearly hurt somebody?"

The two thugs nodded their heads as Oxnard continued on with his plan.

"Dis is priceless, boys! I think McGinty boy here is gonna go to look at some fresh arrivin' produce and have a little accident!" Oxnard began to chuckle, "And we can still sue dat damn Molina and his stupid trash service on behalf of our friends at McGinty's! Ha-ha! That's what I call killin' two birds wit' one pain in the ass!"

************

Gary's pulse began to race and his breath became shallow. He had to think of a way to stop Amma's car accident without Crumb finding out about _The Paper_. 'It's impossible," he thought, 'I don't have a choice, I'm gonna have to tell Crumb about everything,' he looked at Amma's picture on the front page, 'It's the only way I can save her life!'

Taking a deep breath, Gary was going to tell him about _The Paper_ when he spied Crumb's cell phone sticking out of a pocket in his coat, "Crumb! Quick, your cell phone! I need it! Please!"

Crumb nodded his head and tossed Gary the cell phone. Dialing Amma's cell number, he got a hold of her just in time to prevent the fatal accident and told her to pull over so they could speak. "I know, Amma, I should've told you about Mark, but I really didn't know how to, after all, he's your cousin."

Gary continued, "Me and Crumb are on our way to West Side Produce right now, so if you want to meet us there, it's okay. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but it's really difficult sometimes...I'm glad you know that, too. I'll see you at the market...oh, yeah, um, nine thirty...yeah, we'll get there before then, it's just...well, I think I'm gonna have to tell Crumb about something...um, he saw your picture in the p-p...uh, yeah, I know...I gotta go, see you there."

Crumb gave Gary a puzzled look after he handed him back his cell phone, "Tell me about what, Hobson?"

************

In the headquarters of Molina's Trash Service sat Frank Molina, president of the company he had started thirty-nine years ago after leaving the FBI. Molina had resigned from the bureau about six months after President Kennedy's assassination, explaining to his superiors that he had lost faith in his ability to function properly as agent. Molina never mentioned to anyone that he and his partner, Kirk Parker, may have had a chance to prevent Kennedy's death, but chose not to act on it. Parker died in the line of duty in 1964, but Molina always suspected that his former partner had allowed himself to be shot. Whatever had really happened to Parker, Molina didn't know and didn't care to.

He started his trash service on a shoestring and after a few years, it became one of Chicago's largest, making Molina a very wealthy, albeit unhappy, man. Lately, his company had been receiving threats from an unknown source, claiming that they would start sabotaging his equipment unless he paid an "insurance" fee. Molina sat in his office that day, deciding on what he should do. "I was a good agent," he said out loud, "I'm going to find these bastards and arrest them myself!" He smiled, "I'm tired of sitting on the sidelines, it's time for me to get back in the game!"

\------------

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

Gary tried not to look at Crumb as he continued driving west on Fullerton Avenue. He was imagining the reaction Crumb might have after he mentioned _The Paper_ to him and winced sharply. 'If I don't tell him,' thought Gary, 'He's gonna wonder why Amma's picture was in _The Paper_ and then ask me why I had to call her. He may be a big pain in the butt, but Crumb's a good detective and I can't hide _The Paper_ from him much longer.'

"So, Hobson, are you gonna tell me 'bout somethin' or just leave me hangin'?

"Uh, Crumb..." Gary swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, "You know how I seem to...uh... know things sometimes?"

"Hobson! I don't want to know anythin' about that mumbo-jumbo or extry sensitive perspiration shit of yours!" Crumb pointed his finger at him, "And for the record, I'm sure it's got somethin' to do with that damn newspaper you're always carryin' around with you. Don't forget, Hobson, I tended bar for you. You, Marissa and Fishman would meet every mornin' while you read stuff to 'em and then you'd leave for hours on end before coming back with some lame excuse or another."

Shaking his head, Crumb continued his ranting and raised his voice, "I'm pretty sure that damn cat of yours is involved with it, too! I don't how, but it is!" He glared at Gary intensely, "I really don't wanna know how you know anythin' about any of it, okay, Hobson? That also includes stuff concernin' your girlfriend, your bar manager or anythin' else, do I make myself clear?"

"Crumb, ya see...it...well."

"DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR, Hobson? I don't wanna know!"

Relieved for the moment, Gary made a small smile, "Whatever you want, Crumb."

"Good! Now just shut up and keep drivin' us to the produce place!"

************

Unseen by anyone, Chester and Eric dragged Mark's unconscious body through a back entrance of the market and placed it near a dumpster with an emblem that read 'Molina's Trash Service' on it.

"Make sure da driver don't see his body," grunted Oxnard, "And we got's to make sure dis looks like an accident, fellas, so don't go through his pockets or nothin', okay?"

The two thugs then covered Mark's body with some cardboard boxes and rotting lettuce. "Yeah, dat's da way, fellas," chuckled Oxnard, "Da cops will think that crap came out of da dumpster." He looked at his watch, "Our trash truck should be here in 'bout ten minutes, fellas, so's keeps yer eyes on da bar boy and make sure he don't gets up or moves away!"

Chester and Eric both grinned and nodded their heads.

"Good! In a few short minutes," laughed Oxnard, "We'll have one less problem to deal with!"

************

Molina had the last phone threat he received traced to a payphone at the corner of Fullerton and Cicero. Using a combination of detective skills that had been dormant for many years and acting on a hunch, he looked through some company records and saw that a customer, West Side Produce, was very close to that location. After viewing their file, he saw that not only had they filed complaint after complaint to his customer service department, but they also hadn't paid their bill in over four months, even after being sent at least four collection letters.

"Bingo," he said to himself, "I'd be willing to wager that company or someone in it, is my suspect! A classic case of extortion by intimidation!"

He went over to the telephone and began to pick it up to dial the police, when he suddenly slammed the phone down. Getting his hat and coat, Molina smiled broadly, "No cops...this is one I'm going to take care of myself."

As Molina was walking out of his office, his secretary asked him where he was going. Still smiling, he politely answered her, "I'm going to pay a courtesy call to a client of ours, Ms. Abernathy. It's been quite a while since I did anything like that, you know."

\------------

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**

In the loft, Marissa sat in the rocking chair, slowly rocking it back and forth while waiting for the phone to ring. In an effort to try and keep her composure, She began quietly singing a hymn that her grandmother had taught to her when she was a young girl, but even doing that brought very little, if any, comfort. The persistent feeling that Mark was somehow in danger and needed her had grown much stronger and since she knew the only way she could allay her fears would be to go to him, Marissa felt for the phone and pressed the intercom button. "Denise, would you mind doing me a favor? I'd like for you to baby-sit the twins for a bit while I go out to do an errand... you will? Thank you, oh, and before you come upstairs to the loft, would you mind calling a cab for me? Tell them I need to go to West Side Produce on Fullerton Avenue...yes, West Side Produce...thank you, Denise."

**************

As Amma continued driving towards the produce market, she realized that for first time since they had become a couple, she was angry with Gary. He had deliberately withheld the story of Mark's accident from her and although she guessed he might have felt that he was protecting her by not mentioning it, she was upset. 'Didn't he think I could handle it?' she thought, 'Gary knew I got _The Paper_ back in Philadelphia! He knows Mark is like a brother to me, but he should also know I'm used to stories like that happening!'

Amma's anger subsided after she thought about something else. 'That stopped car on the expressway...he called me on my cell phone...Oh, God, I was going to be in an accident and he knew it! That's why he didn't want to tell me about Mark being in _The Paper_! He was afraid I'd rush out and do something reckless because I wouldn't be thinking straight and he was right!'

Amma suddenly had another thought, 'Oh, no! I did the same thing to Marissa! I'd better call and tell her that Mark was in _The Paper_ , Lord knows she deserves that!' After pressing the speed dial button on her cell phone, she was surprised to hear someone other than Marissa answer her call.

"Oh, hello, Ms. Perini," answered Denise, "...No, she's not here. Mrs. Perini went out on an errand...yes, I do know where. She went to West Side Produce on Fullerton Avenue...she just left in a cab about two minutes ago...do you want to leave a message for her? No? I'll let her know you called, good bye."

**************

After leaving his office in Skokie, Frank Molina drove his car south on Cicero Avenue towards West Side Produce. He was determined to find out if his suspicions were correct and either the market or somebody in it were behind the threats to his company. It had been along time since he had used his skills as a trained investigator in criminal matters, but chuckled quietly while comparing it to riding a bike, 'Once you learn how, it's just a matter keeping in practice,' he thought, 'You really never forget how.' His biggest regret in life was that he didn't stop President Kennedy's assassination when he had a chance. His resignation from the FBI was a direct result of his not acting on a tip from a mysterious stranger the day of the assassination. He and his former partner, Kirk Parker, chose not to believe the tipster and had tried to arrest him instead. Molina was certain he would have killed the stranger after receiving news of the president's death, if it was not for the intercession of a rookie Chicago beat cop who stood ready and willing to defend the stranger by any means. More than thirty-nine years had passed by since that fateful day in November 1963 and he had never forgotten the stranger's name. Molina had forgotten many other things in his life, such as how to love or be loved, be happy or to even accept defeat, but he would never forget the name of that stranger and swore someday that he would locate a man named Mark Vittorio Perini and ask him how he knew what would happen that day.

After Molina pulled into the parking lot of West Side Produce, his instincts as a detective suddenly kicked in and whatever else was on his mind now completely disappeared. The job in hand was to find out who was threatening him and his company. Molina got out of his car just as a black Jeep, followed by a police cruiser, appeared. "This might prove to be interesting," mused Molina, "Very interesting, indeed."

The time was nine twenty five when Gary and Crumb turned into the parking lot. Jumping out of his Jeep, Gary ran towards the back end of the market, along with Crumb, who had picked up _The Paper_ after it fell out of Gary's back pocket and was struggling to keep up with him. A trash truck had arrived and was in the process of lifting up a dumpster by it's harness. Gary sprinted at full speed in the truck's direction, desperately trying to get the driver's attention by waving his arms wildly and screaming at the top of his lungs, "HEY! STOP!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE**

After hearing Gary's shouts, Mark was somehow able to move enough to have the "coverings" reveal his presence under a pile of garbage. Crumb saw him and quickly pulled Mark out of the way just as the dumpster dropped on where he had been laying only seconds before.

Chester and Eric started to run away, but were stopped in their tracks by Officer Shaunessy, who, after yelling, "Freeze!" pointed his service revolver at the two.

*************

While this was going on, two other vehicles arrived, a cab and Amma's car. Amma jumped out of her car and shouted for Marissa to take cover just as she exited the cab. Louie Oxnard saw there was no way out of this situation without a fight and pulled out a gun from his coat. Gary yelled for Amma to drop and roll, but since he was between her and Oxnard, Oxnard heard it, too. Acting like a man who had nothing to lose, Oxnard smiled as he pointed the gun at Amma. She saw the weapon pointed at her, but couldn't move out of the way fast enough. Gary witnessed all of this unfold before his eyes in slow motion and tried in vain to get over to Amma, but was helpless as a laughing Oxnard pulled the trigger. Amma fell instantly, but, almost at the same time, so did Oxnard. Standing over to one side was Molina, a smoking gun in his hand. He had tried to get Oxnard before he shot at Amma, but was too late.

Gary ran over to Amma, but her wound was fatal and as he bent down to cradle her head, she smiled up at him. "Th- _The P-Paper_ is funny, you know," she said while gasping for breath, "S-sometimes you just can't change fate."

"No! I won't let this happen! It can't! It-it won't!"

"G-Gary...I was supposed to die today...if not here, at least in the accident you st-stopped." She cringed as the pain became worse, "After Harold died, I-I never thought I'd be able to love again. I didn't count on meeting you and these past few months have been the best in my life. I love you, Gary Hobson and I want you to promise me you'll look after Mark, Marissa and the twins." She looked up at him, "Promise me, p-please."

"You're gonna be okay, I just saw that uniformed cop call for an ambulance," Gary said with tears in his eyes, "You're gonna be okay, dammit!"

"No, Gary, I won't," replied Amma with a short gasp, "J-just...promise me you'll do what I asked, okay?"

"B-but we're supposed to get married! Isn't this what _The Paper_ wanted? Dammit! Isn't it?"

"I don't...th-think so. I-I l-love you, G-..." Amma's eyes closed and she stopped breathing. Gary tried in vain to do CPR and kept continuing until Crumb pulled him off of her.

"Hob...Gary, there's nothing you can do," Crumb placed his hand on Gary's shoulder, "I know you loved her, but she's in God's hands now."

"No! No! She's gonna live! She's gonna get better! You'll see!"

Molina walked over to him and placed his arm around Gary, "She's gone, son, she's gone."

Tears streamed down Gary's face, "NOOOO!"

*************

Marissa heard the gunshots and all the commotion, "What happened? Will somebody tell me what just happened?"

Crumb left Gary's side and walked over to Marissa, "Your husband is okay, but...but..."

"Gary? Is Gary okay?"

"Hobson's fine, it's...um...his girl..."

"Crumb...don't hide anything from me...what happened to Amma?"

Crumb placed his arms around Marissa. She felt the wetness on his cheek and knew what he was about to tell her.

"Um...Amma...Amma's dead."

Even though she knew what Crumb was going to say, hearing it for the first time made her cringe and then start to cry, "Oh, God, no!"

\------------

**CHAPTER THIRTY**

In a matter of only a few minutes, West Side Produce had become a major crime scene with police vehicles of every type, ambulances and TV crews now filling the parking lot. A white sheet covered Amma's body and Gary continued to weep over it. Detectives were interviewing Molina and Crumb, and Paramedics were treating Mark.

While all of this was going on, Marissa was torn between the equally difficult job of trying to comfort either her husband or best friend and didn't know whom to talk to first. The decision was made for her by Crumb, who, after having finished speaking to the police, led her over to Mark. Unsure of what else to do, Marissa felt for Mark's hand and squeezed it tightly. "Mark, I-I, uh... you know that I don't like to say, um, I'm sorry, but...un-under these circumstances, I-I don't know what else to say..."

With tears in his eyes, Mark interrupted his wife, "There's nothing to say, Marissa. Amma's dead and it's my damned fault. I had to come here and try to..."

Marissa hugged him and lightly placed her hand on his mouth to stop him from speaking further, "It's not your fault, honey, please believe me, it's not anyone's fault!"

Mark shook his head, "I-I just wish I could believe you, I really do."

"You're going to have to, Mark," she replied, "And in your heart, you know I'm right...all you need is a little time. I-I think I'd better speak to Gary, Lord knows what's going through his mind right now. Are you feeling well enough to walk me over to him?"

"Yeah, but right now you, uh, really shouldn't. That woman detective he knows is with him...um, what's her name? Oh yeah, Brigatti."

************

Molina had finished giving his statement to police and finally noticed Crumb. There was something familiar about this man and his investigative curiosity perked up. He was positive that he knew him from somewhere, he just couldn't put his finger on it. Walking over to him, he began to introduce himself, "I saw how you saved that guy from being crushed by one of my dumpsters."

"Your dumpster?" answered Crumb, "What? You own it or somethin'?"

Molina forced a small smile and extended his hand, "I'm Frank Molina, you know, Molina's Trash Service...we're one of Chicago's largest."

"Not bad shootin' for trash man," replied Crumb as he shook Molina's hand, "I'm Marion Crumb, private investigator and retired from the C.P.D. I'd say it's nice to meet ya," Crumb glanced over towards Gary, still hovering over Amma's body, only now accompanied by Toni Brigatti, "But under the circumstances, I can't. She was a friend of mine...she was gonna marry that kid over there."

Molina's face suddenly turned pale after Crumb mentioned his name, "Did you say Crumb? I knew a Crumb...I met him once when I was investigating a case."

Crumb became annoyed with Molina and shook his head, "I never worked the trash detail, buddy, so's I suppose you got me confused with somebody else, okay?" Crumb started to walk away.

Molina grabbed his arm, "It was when I was in the FBI, Mr. Crumb. I was investigating a case at Union Station in 1963."

Crumb pulled Molina's hand off his arm, "So's whatever happened to that partner of yours, I think his name was Parker, wasn't it?"

***********

Toni Brigatti hugged Gary tightly and attempted to wipe away his tears, but Gary pushed her hand away from his face. "W-we were gonna g-get married, Brigatti, don't ya see? I-I loved her...she was gonna be my wife, b-but now..." He paused to wipe his face, "Why, Toni, why?"

"I can't answer that, Gary," she softly replied, "You were happy with her, I know that. Nobody can say anything that will take the hurt away and I'm not going to try, but if you need me for anything at all, I'll be there for you." She kissed him on the cheek, "You won't go through this alone, I promise."

\------------

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE**

"So," said Molina, quite smugly, "It was you! I thought as much."

"Yeah...it was me," answered Crumb reluctantly, "But what happened to Parker?"

"It...it doesn't really matter, okay?"

Crumb raised his brow, "In the line of duty, I bet, huh?"

"I guess."

"If it helps...the suspect you guys arrested didn't have anythin' to do with it."

"We knew that...it's just..." Molina grabbed Crumb by the collar, "How the hell did he know it was going to happen?"

"Hocus-pocus...mumbo-jumbo shit," Crumb stared at him intently, "How the fuck should I know?"

"You do, don't you?"

"I have to take care of my friend," replied Crumb, raising his voice, "He just lost his fiancée ...or did you forget that somebody just died."

"I know."

"Well," answered Crumb angrily, "Act like it then, asshole!"

"I'll contact you," replied Molina, "We need to talk."

"Don't bother...for now."

*************

"Hob...Gary...I...uh…have to go," the tears in Brigatti's eyes betraying her normal response to anything that would happen to Gary, "You have my cell phone number...please...call me even if it's just to talk...Gary...just call me."

"I will, Toni, I just..." Gary began to cry again and Brigatti held him tightly.

"I know...she was wonderful, Gary..." Brigatti held his head against her breast, "She was a good woman, Gary, I know...I have to clean this mess...I-I..."

"It's okay, detective, I'll take care of Hobson for now." said Crumb softly, after walking over to the two of them.

Brigatti looked at him, "It's Crumb, isn't?"

"Yeah, it is."

"He needs..."

"He needs for you to do your job," replied Crumb, "And you need to do your job."

"But..."

"There's more here than you know," said Crumb after glancing at _The Paper_ , "You guys have been looking to get these bums for about two years...check in the back for some mary-ja-juana!"

Brigatti shook her head, "Crumb...we've been looking for drugs...we just never find them!"

Crumb smiled, "You will this time." He turned and walked towards Gary, handing him tomorrow's _Sun-Times_.

"This is yours, Hobson." said Crumb, placing _The Paper_ in his hand.

"Not anymore, Crumb, not anymore." Gary turned and walked away, letting _The Paper_ drop to the ground.

\-------------

**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO**

"Whacha mean by not anymore, Hobson?" demanded Crumb after picking up _The Paper_ and chasing Gary, "This goddamn thing," he said while looking down at _The Paper_ , "Belongs to you!"

Gary turned towards him and with a look of anger on his face, shouted, "I don't want it, Crumb, can't you see that? What the hell's the use of that damn thing if I can't even save the woman I love? Can't you get it, Crumb? It's over! I quit! Give it to somebody who gives a damn! I don't!"

He grabbed _The Paper_ out of Crumb's hand and threw it into the air, the pages scattering all over the place, "Let 'em get somebody else to be the hero! That goddamn thing wouldn't let me have a life and finally proved it when it took Amma from me!" Gary kicked at the loose pages that lay on the ground and quickly walked away.

************

Marissa heard this happen and started walking towards all the commotion until Mark put his arms around her and restrained her from going, "He-he's right, you know, Marissa. Gary's right and I don't blame him for the way he feels." He held her arms tightly, "I wish I'd never been involved with it, too! All it's done for my family is bring death and pain...first, my daughter Lisa and now, Amma! I wish I never moved to this goddamn city!" Mark shook his head and let go of one of her arms.

A look of shock suddenly appeared on Marissa, "What do you mean you wish you'd never moved here? I suppose the two of us getting married and having the twins was a mistake? Or maybe how we met? You do remember, don't you?" Her expression became one of anger, " _The Paper_ first brought you to Chicago to save my life... remember? Or was that a mistake, too?"

Mark looked at her and stammered, "Of-of c-course n-not...I-I th-think."

"What do you mean by you think?" she angrily replied, "Aren't you sure?"

Mark got angry, "Maybe I'm not!"

She felt for his face and slapped it hard, "You and Gary are hurting, and you both blame _The Paper_! It's not _The Paper_ 's fault! It's nobody's fault! People will always die, but that's a part of life! I loved Amma, too and it hurts me as much as you and Gary, but we all have to go on! Gary will continue with _The Paper_ when he's ready to and until he is, you'll have to take care of it for him!"

"What if I don't want to?"

"Then maybe I made the mistake of falling in love with the wrong man."

"Maybe you did." He let go of Marissa and walked away from her, shaking his head and quietly repeating one more time, "Maybe you did."

************

Crumb gathered up all the pages of _The Paper_ that he could and then walked over to Marissa. "I sorta thought you could, uh, use a friend to talk to. I, um, saw Perini and you get into it. Does he know 'bout Hobson's magic paper, too?"

"And what makes you think I know anything about a magic paper, Crumb?"

"You do."

Marissa sighed, "Okay, Crumb, how long have you known about it?"

"When I worked for you and Hobson as a bartender at McGinty's," Crumb quietly answered, "And I sorta had it figured out a little before that, when I was a cop. I wasn't sure how Hobson knew things that was gonna happen, but I knew he did. When he mentioned that Snow fella one day...I put two and two together."

Marissa was surprised, "You knew Lucius Snow?"

"Yeah. I sorta ran into him and that cat a few times when I was a cop. He always carried a paper like Hobson does. He gave me leads into some big cases and that was one of the reasons I got promoted to detective, I seemed to catch all the bad guys."

"He got _The Paper_ before Gary," replied Marissa, "And then made Gary his successor before he died."

"It seems that Hobson doesn't want that paper anymore," said Crumb, "And from what I can tell of you two's argument, neither does your husband. I ran into him before, too...a very long time ago...Perini and Hobson's cat."

Marissa was puzzled, "I don't understand you, Crumb, what do you mean by that?"

"I'm not so sure I understand it myself, Marissa," he answered, "And I didn't know it was Perini until today when I ran into somebody else from that same day...um, ya see, I, uh, met your husband, uh, at Union Station, some years back."

"How many years back, Crumb?"

"You...you won't believe me."

"Try me."

"Thirty-nine years."

"What?" A look of bewilderment appeared on her face, "That...that would be in..."

"1963," quickly interrupted Crumb, "November 22nd, 1963 to be exact."

"That's impossible," Marissa exclaimed, "Mark was born in 1962 in Philadelphia! Wait! Wasn't that the day that..."

"I know, Marissa," interrupted Crumb again, "The day President Kennedy was shot. Let me tell ya about it..."

\-------------

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Gary finally made it over to his Jeep and after climbing in, took one last tearful look at the ambulance that held Amma's body as it sped away. The uniformed officer who had been with Crumb decided on not charging him with any traffic violations in light of what happened at the produce market. Gary really didn't care, since he had planned on leaving the scene anyway, it just made his decision on what to do next a bit easier to make. After drying his eyes with his sleeve, he paused for just a moment and thought about what he was going to do. Gary left West Side Produce and now headed the Jeep towards his apartment on Oak Street, cursing _The Paper_ with each and every breath as he drove on.

*************

After reaching the McGinty's van in the parking lot, Mark did not look back at Marissa as he drove away. He was filled with anger towards _The Paper_ and anything associated with it, even his wife. Deep in his heart, he loved Marissa more than anything, but her insistence that he take care of _The Paper_ until Gary was able to again, angered him considerably. He was now having doubts whether his arrival in Chicago two years ago was really worth it. It was true that he had found the love of his life and was proud of his two children, but the cost may have been the lives of his adult daughter and a cousin whom he considered a sister. While driving aimlessly on the streets of Chicago, Mark began pondering an idea that sent chills down his spine, an idea that was completely out of his character to even consider, but an idea that he reluctantly now planned to do. He turned down a street and headed the van towards McGinty's.

*************

"Crumb...how can you be sure it was Mark? That was thirty-nine years ago!" Marissa slowly shook her head, "Mark turns forty in August, Crumb...what you're saying is imposs.." She suddenly stopped talking and then remembered Gary mentioning two times when he had apparently gone back in time because of _The Paper_. "Mark was acting a bit strange this morning, Crumb. He asked me questions about when I worked at Strauss as a receptionist with Gary...almost like he knew what the answer would be...maybe...I don't know what I believe."

"Marissa," replied Crumb, "It's like I told ya...that Molina guy is the key. I was with Molina when I saw Perini in Union Station back in '63, he was smokin' his pipe, readin' a paper and had that cat of Hobson's hangin' around him! Later on, after we arrested him, Molina probably woulda killed Perini if I hadn't pulled him off. Your husband knew that Kennedy was going to be shot and tried to prevent it!"

"I-I don't know, Crumb," slowly replied Marissa, "I really don't know how it could be Mark, but I do know that Lucius Snow flew to Dallas to try and stop the assassination."

"Yeah," snorted Crumb, "And just maybe, because of that, nobody was in Chicago to take care of that _paper_. I think I remember him telling me after they released him that he had to meet a train in Cicero or somethin'." Crumb shook his head, "It had to be Perini, Marissa...the guy called me Zeke as he left the train station...I remember thinkin' that was strange, 'cause back then the only fellas that called me Zeke were in the navy with me."

"I want to believe you, Crumb, really, I do."

"I understand, Marissa, but think about this...if Hobson gets a _paper_ that tells him what's gonna happen, can't some other strange shit occur?"

"I-I suppose so," Marissa reached out for Crumb's arm, "And you didn't remember any of it until today, correct?"

"Yeah."

"And you think somehow it has to do with Molina?"

"Uh-huh. He gave me his card and told me to call him."

"Maybe I'm crazy, Crumb," said Marissa sternly, "But I think you better make that call and the two of us should pay him a visit."

**************

Mark parked the van in an alley near McGinty's and proceeded to go inside through the side entrance in the kitchen. After going up to the loft, he was surprised to see Denise babysitting the twins.

"Hi, Mark!" chuckled Denise, "Did you come to take over for me as babysitter?"

"Uh...no, not yet." Mark looked around the loft, "Denise, uh, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, Mark, what do you need?"

"Would you mind taking the twins out for a little while in their stroller? I, uh, need, um, to do some important paperwork and really don't want to be disturbed."

"Sure, Mark, let me get their little coats and boots on them and I'll carry them downstairs to the stroller."

"Thanks, Denise," replied Mark wearily, "I'll need about an hour."

***************

Gary entered his apartment and began stuffing his things in a duffle bag. He glanced at a picture of he and Amma together and paused. At that moment, a noise came from his front door.

"Meoww!"

Gary turned sharply towards the familiar sound, "Get the hell out! I quit! I don't want it anymore!"

The cat hissed at him.

Gary picked up a large book and threw it at the cat. The book narrowly missed as it scampered out the door. "Good! I hope you never return!" He continued packing his things and after finishing, took one last glance around the loft. While leaving out of the door, he kicked away the book he had thrown at the cat without looking to see what it was.

The book was ' _Lost Chicago_ '.

\-------------

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR**

"Whadaya mean the two of us should visit Molina?" Crumb asked Marissa, still grasping _The Paper_ in his hand,"If ya don't mind me sayin' this, young lady, I don't recall him askin' you to accompany me!"

A serious expression shot across Marissa's face, "Crumb! Anything that concerns Mark and Gary's _paper,_ especially if Mark's somehow been able to...to transverse time, requires me to be there and you know that!"

"It could be dangerous for all we know. Molina's an ex-FBI guy and...well, I've got a really bad feelin' about all this."

"A feeling like a Mumbo-jumbo or heebie-jeebie?" She gave Crumb a disarming smile.

Crumb had no choice but to grin back, "Point taken."

Marissa felt for and then grabbed Crumb's arm, "You call him and then we'll get a cab."

He glanced over at the crime scene and spotted Molina, "We don't need to, Marissa, he ain't left here yet." Letting go of Marissa, He whistled loudly and then yelled, "Hey! Molina! Get your butt over here! It's finally time we talked!"

************

Gary negotiated around the heavy downtown traffic and was finally able to get on the Eisenhower Expressway. He decided to head west, very far west. "It's about time I visited Chuck out in L.A.," he said to himself, "I've been in this damn city long enough and it's time to go and get myself a real life! No more papers! No more bar! No more cats! It's now time for me to take charge of my own destiny!" His grief about Amma and anger towards _The Paper_ were now controlling his every conscious moment, even impairing his ability to drive.

************

Mark sat down at Marissa's computer in the loft and began typing a letter to her. She had taught him how to use her Braille printer in case he ever needed to leave her a message and he had learned it well. With tears rolling down both cheeks, Mark started typing his letter:

_'My darling Sweetstuff,_

_Before I write anything at all, I want you to know that I love you more than you could ever know. The past two years have been the best of my life and up until today, I wouldn't have changed a thing. You've enriched my life with two beautiful children and have given me the best love anyone could have ever known.'_

Mark momentarily stopped typing to wipe the tears from his eyes and then continued.

_'But all good things must come to end. Today you wondered if you may have fallen in love with the wrong man, Marissa. I guess you did. It's time I left this city, and you, for something else. Don't ever think that I don't love you or will ever stop loving you. I just need some time. Amma's death was my fault, as was Lisa's. If I hadn't moved here, the two of them would probably still be alive. I have no doubt that if I hadn't moved to Chicago, Gary would have saved your life on the day that we met and that The Paper would have sent the two of you someone other than me to help out. I promise I will someday contact you and the twins, but until then, I'm sure that Gary will take good care of all of you. This isn't easy for me and I hope you understand that._

_I love you, Marissa,_

_Mark'_

He pressed the print button and cried.

************

As Marissa and Crumb were waiting for Molina to come over to them, they had unexpected visitor suddenly appear.

"Meowww!"

"Hey Marissa," said Crumb, "It's Hobson's cat! I wonder what he's doing here?"

"Crumb! _The Paper_!" Marissa asked him anxiously, "Do you have _The Paper_?"

"Yeah...but what should I do? Give it to the cat?"

"READ IT!"

Crumb looked over the front page and turned pale at seeing a headline that hadn't been there before.

' **LOCAL BAR OWNER KILLED IN ACCIDENT ON EISENHOWER EXPRESSWAY** '.

Underneath the headline was a picture of Gary.

\------------

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE**

"Crumb!" Demanded Marissa, "Tell me! What's in _The Paper_? What have you read?"

"Marissa...I-I...does this crap, always happen or what? I-I...can we stop it? Please...I gotta know!"

"What does _The Paper_ say? What have you read?"

Crumb shook his head and put his hand on Marissa's shoulder, "It's Hobson, in about ten minutes...he-he gets killed in an auto accident on the Eisenhower!"

"Oh, God! Crumb, you have to stop it!"

"How, Marissa? The kid don't carry a cell phone and we sure as shit can't get to him in time...how the hell can we stop it? You tell me!"

Marissa bowed her head and shook it from side to side, "There has to be a way, Crumb, there has to!"

After looking further down the front page, Crumb couldn't believe what else _The Paper_ had in store for him to read, "Damn! I-I don't believe this!" He slammed _The Paper_ on his arm.

"Is-is there something else?"

"Yeah...but...I-I...damn, Marissa, I ain't that sure I should tell ya!"

"Crumb!

"It-it's Perini! This _paper_ says there's a warrant for his arrest for grand theft! It's sayin' that he skipped town with a week's worth of receipts from McGinty's and his whereabouts is unknown!"

"What?

"Yeah! Your husband ripped off the safe in the bar and skipped town!"

"This...this can't be happening! Please, Crumb, tell me this isn't happening!"

Just then, Molina made his way over, "So whadya wanna talk about, Crumb?"

************

As Gary continued driving on the Eisenhower Expressway, his thoughts were of all of the wonderful times he had spent with Amma and how they had been planning their wedding. His grief about her and his anger towards The Paper finally overcame him and his eyes completely teared up. Taking a moment to wipe his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, Gary didn't see the van to his front right swerve sharply to avoid an object in the middle of it's path. The Jeep and Gary plowed into it at more than sixty miles an hour.

************

Mark took the letter he had printed in Braille and put it in an envelope. He was going to leave it with one of the staff downstairs before he left. Taking a moment to gaze around the loft, he spotted Marissa's Braille bible on the nightstand next to their bed. Walking over to it, he tearfully removed his gold wedding band and placed it on top of it. He glanced over towards the twins' crib and the tears began to fall even more heavily. Wiping his eyes, he realized that what he planned on doing next was wrong, as was leaving his wife and kids in the first place.

He was going to take a small overnight bag and take...no...rob the safe in the office of whatever receipts were in it. He was now in this so deep, that the thought of going to prison or even doing something illegal did not matter to him. Maybe if he got caught, Mark reasoned, they would lock him up and throw away the key. Whatever the outcome, he was positive that Marissa and the twins deserved much better than someone like him. Holding his letter to his wife in one hand and having grabbed the overnight bag with the other, he was about to step out of the loft when he heard a voice say:

"Choices...remember, Mark? Running away never solved anything."

\------------

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX**

It was over in a matter of seconds. Pieces of what had once been a black Jeep Wrangler were now scattered over the westbound lanes of the Eisenhower Expressway. A spinning tire from a broken front axle, a crumpled driver's side door ripped off it's hinges and a shattered windshield spattered with blood along with a lifeless body tightly gripping a twisted steering wheel laying face down on the pavement. It was obvious that the driver never had a chance.

************

"Marissa!" shouted Crumb, completely ignoring Molina's arrival, "Th-the time!" He looked at _The Paper_ and then again at his watch, "H-Hobson! Accordin' to this..." He glared at Molina and pushed him out of the way, "This, um, thing...his, um, you know, happened two minutes ago!"

"Oh, no! Crumb!" A look of shock and disbelief now shot across Marissa's face, "Please tell me that the story was never there and that you just imagined it! Please tell me that, Crumb, please!"

"I-I can't, Marissa, I want to...but I-I won't lie to ya." Crumb put his arm around her and gently kissed her forehead, "And the story about Mark Perini is still there, too. I don't know what to...this has been a very bad day."

Molina was puzzled, "Mark Perini? What the hell are you people going on about?"

Crumb shook his head, "It only gets worse, Molina...I want ya to meet a friend of mine. Her name is Marissa...Marissa Perini."

Molina's face turned pale, "Mark Perini? Is he that guy in the holding cell in '63 from the train station's daughter?"

Crumb shook his head, "Nah, this is gonna be a little hard to believe...um, Frank Molina, I'd like ya to meet Mrs. Mark Perini...his wife."

************

Mark turned towards the familiar voice and angrily shouted, "You again! Why don't ya just leave me the hell alone! You and your goddamn choices! I made a choice and Lisa died! I make another choice and Amma gets killed! What the hell is this to you? A goddamn game to see how much you can make my life fucking suck more than it already does?" Mark shook his fist at the old man in front of him, "I know who you are...and I don't want anything to do with this shit anymore! It's Gary's responsibility, not mine! The goddamn costs are too high...first my daughter and now my cousin...who's next? My wife? My kids? No way! I ain't stickin' around to find out!"

The man gazed at him and sighed, " _The Paper_ is Gary's responsibility, but also occasionally yours, too, and I understand your feelings." The man shook his head slowly, "Mark, nothing dies that's remembered. You should try to keep Lisa in your thoughts everyday."

"Like I don't, old man? What about Amma? She didn't deserve to die! It shoulda been me!"

"Choices, Mark. You have the chance to correct your choice."

"Huh? What the hell are you talking about?"

The man smiled, "Let's just say that some mistakes were made this morning and there were things that shouldn't have happened..."

"I don't understand...what do you mean?"

"Not everybody gets a second chance again, Mark." His smile became broader, "Let's just say you made quite a lasting impression on me back in April of 1976." After saying that, the man suddenly disappeared in front of him.

Mark dropped the bag he was holding, "I must've finally lost it...that's it! I've gone completely bonkers!" Not bothering to pick up the bag, He staggered towards the door of the loft, tucking the letter to Marissa in his inside coat pocket. After opening the door, he was shocked to see that, instead of the foyer, he was now outside of McGinty's and it appeared to be early in the morning. A strange chill overcame him as he suddenly remembered the last words the old man had said, 'Not everybody gets a second chance again.' He realized it was now six thirty in morning all over again and maybe this time Amma didn't have to die.

\------------

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN**

Mark was dumbfounded and could not believe it was six thirty that same morning again. Now excited by the prospect of being able to prevent Amma's death, he started running to the entrance of the bar. Before getting to the front door, he suddenly stopped and remembered something else that had happened at West Side Produce. Investigating around the market after Amma's death, the police had discovered over 1000 pounds of marijuana and other illegal drugs in a back storeroom. He knew that if he didn't do something to let the police know about the drugs, they would more than likely end up on the streets of Chicago. Thinking of what he could do to help, Mark crossed over to a phone booth on the other side of Franklin Street. With the sounds of a Brown line EL train rumbling above him, he picked up the phone and asked information to give him the number of the Fourth Precinct Police Station.

After dialing the number, he asked to speak with Detective Antonia Brigatti, "Detective Brigatti? Um, we've never actually met, but I know that you've been looking to bust the owners of West Side Produce on many different charges...Yeah, I know it's six forty-five in the morning, but what I have to tell you can't wait...please, Detective, I have something important to tell you!... Okay, this is it...in a back storage area of the market you'll find cache of illegal drugs...Yep, marijuana, cocaine and some others that I'm not sure what they are ...over 1000 pounds!...Yes, that's what I said, over a thousand!...how do I know?" Mark smiled, "Let's just say a little kitty told me...Yeah, you'll need a swat team...they're armed ...my name?" He paused for a moment and grinned, "I'm just a concerned citizen that doesn't want these drugs loose on the streets of Chicago ...Reward? Nah, that's okay, my reward is for your department to close 'em down!...How did I get your name?" He thought for a second, "A retired CPD detective that goes by the name of Crumb …Yeah, Marion Crumb." Smiling, he continued, "He's a private eye now...You know that?.…. Anyway, he also told me about the drugs...Yeah, I'd say he's a very credible source, too...Thanks for looking into this, Detective! 'Bye"

He hung up the phone and chuckled, "I really wish I could be there to see the look on Louie Oxnard's face when they haul him away! Oh, well," he glanced at the upstairs windows of McGinty's and a smile came across his face, "But now to look at something even better than that...my wife and kids!"

He crossed Franklin Street and entered the bar.

***********

Gary sat in the kitchen of his apartment, sipping his morning coffee and reading tomorrow's paper to see what his saves would be for the day. After looking at the main headline, his phone rang and he got up to answer it.

"Amma! Good morning to you, too!"

"No, not much that I could see as saves, but you'll never guess who made the front page headline! Brigatti! She busts some big drug ring," he paused, "And at of all places...it's where McGinty's gets it's produce! I always thought those guys were up to something! Lunch today? Sure...where? The Chop House on Ontario? That sounds great since I don't have any saves until two o'clock. This cop named Shaunessy has a heart attack after chasing some kids who stole a bike. Yeah, he was on foot 'cause apparently they used his squad car in the drug bust and didn't return it to him in time for his shift... yeah...no other cars were available when he came on at eight in the morning."

He smiled, "Yeah, Marissa always says that too, that everything happens for a reason! Maybe this guy's a heart attack waitin' to happen and it's for me to help him understand that! I'll meet ya at The Chop House around noon, okay? 'Til then...Yeah, I love you, too."

*************

Mark entered the loft and quietly walked over to the sleeping twins' crib and kissed them both softly. He undressed silently and made his way over to his and Marissa's bed where she was sleeping peacefully. He noticed his wedding band was on top of her bible and quickly grabbed it. Carefully sliding it back onto his finger, he remembered the Braille letter he had written to her and walked over to his coat. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the envelope and proceeded tearing it into small pieces. Mark then went over to Marissa, still asleep in their bed, and after pulling back the covers, kissed her gently. She stirred and Mark put his arms around her.

"Sweetstuff, I-I know I very rarely ask you if we can make love first thing in the morning, but this morning is special and, well, I was sorta, um, hoping that, uh, maybe you would like to."

Marissa slowly turned towards Mark and after feeling for his face, kissed his lips, smiled and removed her nightgown, "You must have read my mind, my love." She gently slid her nude body on top of his and, after embracing each other very tenderly, the two began making love.

\-------------

**CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT**

Marissa was curled up next to her husband in bed and although she was very pleased with the way the morning started, she was a bit curious as to why he had asked her, "It's not that I didn't enjoy what we did, honey," she felt for his lips and kissed them, "It's just that, well, we made love last night before we went to sleep. I'm not complaining, mind you," Marissa smiled, "It's just unusual for you to ask me after we did something the night before. I can't help wondering if you had a nightmare or if there's anything else bothering you."

Mark kissed her, "I guess you could say it was a nightmare that I had." He began gently caressing her face, "I-I want you to know that the greatest day in my life was when I met you at the intersection of Illinois and State two years ago. I know it was _The Paper_ that wanted us to meet and fall in love." He kissed her again, "And I'm sure _The Paper_ planned for Gary to meet Amma, too."

"So are you going to tell me about your nightmare?" she asked, "Or was it too horrible to mention?"

Mark put his arms around Marissa and hugged her, "Way too horrible to mention, Sweetstuff, way too horrible."

"Just remember, honey," she said while returning his embrace, "It was only a dream. It didn't really happen."

Mark glanced over at pieces of the torn up Braille goodbye letter he had written to her on a nearby table, slowly shook his head and sighed, "I-I hope so, Sweetstuff, I really hope so."

*************

Gary arrived at The Chop House around noon. Looking around the restaurant, he spotted Amma sitting alone at the bar. He walked over to her and in a funny sounding voice, asked, "Is that seat next to you taken, ma'am?"

Amma did not look up at first and responded, "Yes, I'm waiting for my fiancé to join me for lunch!"

Gary grinned and decided to take this joke as far as he could, "Why you are shore purty, ma'am! It's a shame that you has to get married!"

She turned quickly and started to admonish the stranger, "If you don't leave me alo..." Amma stopped suddenly after seeing the 'stranger' was Gary. "You!" She laughed, "I thought it was some yocal from Hicktown..." She winked, "Hicktown, Indiana."

"Oh, yeah, Hicktown," Gary replied with a laugh, "It's about three towns over from Hickory!"

"Really? I thought it was Hickory!"

"Hey!" said Gary defensively, "I don't make jokes about Philadelphia!"

"Gotcha!" Amma laughed and then kissed him.

Gary smiled, "I guess you did!"

"Come on, big boy, our table is over by the window and I need to talk to you about something important."

Gary put his arm around her and they proceeded to walk over to their table. After sitting down, the waiter took their lunch orders and served them each a beer.

"You've now got me concerned, Amma," said Gary, a bit puzzled, "What's this something important that you need to talk to me about?"

Amma smiled at him, "I don't know why, but when I woke up this morning, I had this strange feeling...a feeling that, for some reason, I can't explain to you."

"Howzat?"

She reached for his hand and held it, "Gary, what I'm trying to say is this...that instead of waiting another six months to get married, why don't we just get married the day after tomorrow? We have our license already and I just want to marry you as soon as I can!"

Gary looked at her and did a double take, "Now let-let m-me get this straight, Amma...you wanna get married the day after t-tomorrow? Did I hear you right? The day after tomorrow?"

She was not happy with the way he reacted to her idea, "Do you have a problem with it? I thought you wanted to get married as soon as we could! Maybe I ought to rethink this whole marriage idea in the first place!" Amma let go of his hand.

"No-no! It's not that! I-I'm just surprised!" He reached back for her hand and held it again, "You just sorta sprung this on me and I was totally unprepared for it!" He kissed her hand, "I-I would be happy to marry you the day after tomorrow if that's what really you want!"

"Are you sure?"

Gary smiled broadly, "Damn sure!"

Amma smiled and reached over the table to kiss him, "Good! I'll call Marissa and Mark and have them reserve McGinty's for the day after tomorrow! We can do what they did and have both the wedding and the reception there!"

"If my memory is correct," chuckled Gary, "They, uh, were only able to have the wedding ceremony and they just barely got that in! Remember...Marissa had the twins and I delivered them in the office!"

"I know that, silly!"

Gary suddenly had an awful thought enter his head, "Amma! You're not...uh…pregnant, are you?"

"Of course not," she sharply answered, "Whatever would make you think..." She suddenly paused after realizing why he asked that and laughed, "I understand, Gary and in answer to your concerns, not even close!"

Gary laughed, "It's just that a Perini getting married at McGinty's in a hurried wedding again, might have some people thinking the worst!"

She giggled, "Yeah, I can see that!" She suddenly became serious, "So is this alright with you? Can we get married in McGinty's the day after tomorrow?"

Gary kissed her tenderly, "I happen to know there's nothing going on in McGinty's that day, so I guess we'll just have to reserve the bar."

Amma smiled and returned his kiss, "I guess we will!"

\------------

**CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE**

"Wow, Sweetstuff," exclaimed Mark while hanging up the phone after talking with Amma, "Can you believe it? The day after tomorrow!" He shook his head, "I asked her if, um, uh, she, er, sorta ...if she was in a family way and had get married. She just laughed and said no, she just wanted to."

Marissa chuckled, "Well, honey, apparently not all the Perini family ends up having to get married." She smiled sweetly, "Gary's probably going to busy arranging for his family to get here...and so will Amma, so I think you'd better do him a favor and ask if you can take care of _The Paper_ for the next day or so, just to help him out."

Mark winced, "Uh, do I have to? I-I really don't feel up to it."

"What?" She was surprised, "Mark, this is a first! I've never known you not wanting to help out Gary with _The Paper_. Why?"

"I-I really can't explain it to you, Marissa," he answered, "P-part of my, uh...my nightmare had to do with _The Paper_ and me taking care of it. I'd just prefer not to, that's all."

"Alright, Mark," replied Marissa, "I won't ask about it, but someday you had better tell me. I don't like it when you keep things from me."

"I know, Sweetstuff," he kissed her, "And I don't like to...but I'm not ready to tell you about it yet. I will someday, I promise, but right now...I can't. When I do tell you, I'm sure you'll understand why, okay?"

After feeling for his lips, she returned his kiss, "Okay."

*************

Gary had called Crumb to let him know about the wedding and Crumb had asked Gary to meet him at his office. Gary didn't want to, but Crumb was insistent, so he reluctantly went after performing a save along the way, stopping two youths from stealing a bike and then telling a policeman to see his doctor, "Officer, I know you feel fine, but, uh, I have friend...he's a heart specialist and he told me the secret signs to look for...and you got 'em. What are they? Uh... that's a secret."

Gary got to Crumb's office at around three o'clock.

"Hobson!" bellowed Crumb, "We need to talk and we need to do it now!"

Gary scowled, "And congratulations to you, too, Crumb!"

"I told you that on the phone, Hobson! I want to know how my name got involved with Brigatti's big drug bust this mornin'! She called to thank me for giving her informant the info! She said it wasn't you that informed her, but I know you know somethin' about this shit! I told her I didn't talk to no one and didn't know what the hell she was talkin' about!"

Crumb pointed at Gary, "I want answers, Hobson, and I want them now!"

"Howzat? Brigatti had a drug bust?"

"Don't play innocent with me, Hobson! I know ya know what I'm talking about!"

Gary shook his head, "Okay, Crumb, I heard a little something about the drug bust, but I don't know any more than you do and that's the truth! I don't know how she involved you with it, really!" Gary looked directly into Crumb's eyes, "Honestly, Crumb, I don't have a clue."

"I can usually tell when you're BSn' me, Hobson," he paused and carefully studied Gary's face, "And you ain't. You really don't know! Huh...I wonder who gave her the info?"

"Beats me, Crumb."

"Yeah, me too. So...how should I dress?"

"Dress for what?"

Crumb shook his head and smiled, "Yer weddin'! It's the day after tomarra, ain't it?"

"Oh! Uh...yeah, it is! I dunno, a tie, I suppose," Gary started to walk out of the office, "And pants, too, Crumb. Pants would be good."

"HOBSON!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER FORTY**

"The day after tomorrow?" screamed Lois on the phone, "Gary! Is-is she...in a family way?"

"No, Mom, Amma just doesn't feel like waiting any longer and to tell the truth, neither do I."

"Gary," she whined, "Why are you having the wedding at McGinty's? Everybody's going to think she's...she's like Marissa when she married Mark. Gary, please hold the wedding elsewhere...for me, your poor mother, who doesn't want people thinking that..."

"Enough, Mom!" interrupted Gary, "Amma wants to hold the wedding there and so do I! Besides, we can't get another place in time."

"Fine!" replied Lois sharply, "Your father and I will be there! Oh! I guess I should ask you this...are any of Amma's relatives coming? You do remember that they didn't attend Marissa and Mark's wedding."

"Yeah, I remember," Gary grumbled, "And her dad is giving her away and Marissa's gonna be her maid of honor, so they'll finally meet. Amma planned that on purpose, ya see."

"Good! We'll be there tomorrow and stay in 'The Gray Ghost' so you don't need to find us a place to stay, okay?"

"I hadn't planned on it."

"Gary!"

Gary laughed, "I was only kidding, Mom!"

"I just bet you were."

"Mom!"

***********

Sitting in his office, Molina reluctantly took a call after his secretary repeatedly told him it was a detective from the Chicago Police Department, "Yeah, this is Frank Molina, what the hell do you want?"

"Mr. Molina, we have reasons to believe that you may have been the target of an extortion plot by some people that we arrested this morning."

"Yeah, so what? And who the hell are you?"

"My name is Detective Antonia Brigatti, and we've found some records that indicate West Side Produce may've been trying to extort money from you!"

"Yeah, I kinda figured those bastards were behind it."

You knew and didn't go to the police?"

Molina was upset, "Lady, I used to be an FBI agent well before you were born! I wanted to handle this crap on my own!"

"I don't give a rat's patootie who you used to be!" answered Brigatti angrily, "Regardless of that or anything else, if you knew about it, you should've let us know...maybe we could've nailed these assholes earlier!"

"The C.P.D. don't know it's head from a damn hole in the ground, detective, and if I'd only had the chance, I woulda proved it!"

"I want you to come to my office, Molina! We really need to talk!"

"Okay, I will...if only to make you young hot shots realize how to handle a damn case!"

"Fine! Be at my office at the fourth precinct tomorrow morning at eight o'clock! You do know where the fourth precinct is, don't you?"

"Yeah," Molina grumbled, "I do."

"Good, I'll see you there...and I'll tell you this, Molina, I really dislike you old S.O.B.'s who think they know it all!"

"And I dislike brassieres on the force!"

"That's okay, Molina," scoffed Brigatti, "I don't wear one!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER FORTY-ONE**

It was just about seven forty-five in the morning when Crumb slowly walked up the short concrete steps that led into the front entrance of the Chicago Police Department's fourth precinct building on Orleans Street. He had received a phone call from Detective Antonia Brigatti the previous afternoon, asking him, no, more like demanding him to be at her office by eight o'clock the next morning. As he entered the building that he had worked in for over thirty-five years before retiring, Crumb still wondered which informant had connected him to Brigatti's drug bust at West Side Produce and why she needed to talk to him anyway. His thoughts were interrupted as a tall, older man bumped into him in by the stairway that led to the detective's offices.

"Hey! Watch where yer goin', okay there, fella? We're all in a hurry to get where we're supposed to be!"

"Watch yourself, dirtball," the older man answered, "I have an appointment to get to!"

"Hey! Who ya callin' a dirtball, old man?" shouted Crumb, "And you ain't the only one with an appointment, ya know! I got one, too!"

"Well, doesn't that just make you so special! Get the hell out of my way!"

"Listen, pal," replied Crumb, "Yer just lucky that we're in the precinct house or I'd give you somethin' so's ya could see how special I am!"

"You and what army, fat boy?"

"That's it, scumbag!" answered Crumb angrily as he put up his fists, "You and me! Outside! Now!"

As the older man began to raise his fists in return, he looked straight at Crumb and put down his arms, "Do I know you? You seem familiar!"

"Marion Crumb! Retired Chicago cop! And who," Crumb asked sarcastically, "The hell are you?"

While extending out his hand for Crumb to shake, the older man answered, "Molina, Frank Molina."

"Oh, yeah," smiled Crumb, "The trash man, right?" He shook his hand.

"Yeah, the trash man," replied Molina, "But I used to be in the FBI a long time ago and I think maybe our paths have crossed somewhere along the line. I'm sure I've met you before!"

"Really? I've met lotsa feds over the years, but can't say I remember ya."

Molina shook his head, "You've got me, I can't seem to remember, either. Oh well, it really doesn't matter, I suppose." He looked at his watch, "Like I said before, I have an appointment."

"With who?"

"Some skirt named Brigatti."

Crumb grinned and made a short laugh, "Heh-heh! She's just up yer alley. You and her will get along just swell!"

"I've only talked to her on the phone, but I can tell you that she's not my kind of cop! Women on the force," Molina shook his head, "What a mistake!"

"It's a damn good thing I gotta see her, too," laughed Crumb, "Or you just might find yerself behind bars! She's one tough lady! C'mon, Molina, I'll take ya to her and on the way maybe we can find out where ya know me from."

"What the hell, why not?"

*************

Mark got off of the phone with his uncle and turned to face Marissa who was sitting at the kitchen table. "Well, it's all set, Uncle Angelo will be here tonight! His flight comes into O'Hare at five thirty and we'll pick him up!" He smiled, "He's really anxious to meet you and it's sorta funny, too. He told me how sorry he was for being so stupid. In all the years I've known him, he's never once apologized to me for anything before. I guess Amma must have really put the fear of God into him!"

"Maybe not the fear of God," answered Marissa, "It may've been the love of God." She got up from the table and tapped her cane over to him, "After all, He does work in strange and wondrous ways." After reaching where Mark stood, Marissa felt for his face and kissed him. "When we got married, you made a promise that you'd always keep the door open for your relatives to get to know me. It may have taken a little longer than you wanted, but I always had faith that everything would work out...and it did! I'm very proud of you for never shutting that door."

Mark returned her kiss and smiled, "I could never shut that door, Sweetstuff...your foot was always holding it open."

************

Gary had only one save that morning, but it was something he wished he could skip. When he saw the story in The Paper while drinking his coffee, his first reaction was to call Mark and have him do it, but the cat meowed loudly.

"You can read minds now, Cat? C'mon! This is a save I could do without! Ya know what those two really think of me!" Gary shook his head, "And who's that other guy with 'em?"

"Rowwrr!"

He threw _The Paper_ down on the table while putting on his jacket. He shook his head again while looking at the medium sized headline on the lower half of the front page, ' **HERO DETECTIVE, EX-COP AND TRASH KING INJURED IN PRECINCT MELEE** '. Alongside the story were the photos of Brigatti, Crumb and a man named Molina.

\-------------

**CHAPTER FORTY-TWO**

As Crumb and Molina climbed the stairs to the detective's offices on the second floor, Molina asked him how long he had been a Chicago cop before retiring.

"Geez, Molina, I guess, uh, thirty-nine years before I hung it up, and, I was a detective for thirty years in this very buildin'! It's sorta strange comin' here and not bein' cop, but I sometimes go on them ride-along things, ya know what I mean, just to make me feel like I'm still on the force. Right now, I got my own private detective agency, but it just ain't the same, ya know, investigatin' cheatin' husbands, insurance scammers, and other dregs of society. I'm thinkin' 'bout closin' it down and askin' for my old bartendin' job back at this joint I used to work for a couple years ago. I know both the owners and even though one of 'em's a flake, he's okay, I suppose. He's gettin' married tomarra and invited me to the weddin'."

Molina nodded his head, "Must be nice having some friends, Crumb. I don't bother with people and they don't bother with me."

"You? No friends?" chuckled Crumb, "With that outgoin' personality of yers, I kinda find that hard to believe!"

Molina gave Crumb a dirty look.

"When did ya leave the bureau?"

"1964."

"Why?"

"None of your damned business!"

Crumb shook his head, "Hey, I'm just makin' conversation. I was tryin' ta see if maybe I could figure out when and if we met, but since you don't wanna talk about it, that's fine with me!"

"Fine with me, too!"

"Just as well, 'cause there's Brigatti's office!" Crumb pointed, "And I can't wait to find out why she wants to see the both of us this mornin'!"

************

As Gary walked from his apartment to catch the el, he decided to re-read the story about the melee at the police station.

' _Yesterday morning at around 8:30AM, an alleged altercation between a C.P.D. detective and civilians occurred in the detective's section of the fourth precinct police station on Orleans Street. A C.P.D. spokesman announced that the incident was currently under investigation and that authorities would issue a formal statement as soon as more facts were available. The detective allegedly involved in the incident, Detective Antonia Brigatti, 34, of Chicago, has been put on administrative leave pending the outcome of the investigation and is currently being treated for her injuries at Cook County Hospital. The two others reportedly injured in the altercation are Frank Molina, 69, of Skokie, the owner of Molina's Trash Service, and Marion Crumb, 63, of Chicago, a local private investigator. Both were treated and released from Northwestern Memorial Hospital. Police are currently holding Mr. Molina and he may be charged with assaulting a police officer. There are no charges pending against Mr. Crumb_.'

While waiting for his EL train, Gary looked at his watch. The time was now a little before eight o'clock and the platform was crowded with commuters.

'Why am I doing this?' he thought, 'I already have a very busy day with all the stuff I gotta do before me and Amma's wedding tomorrow!' He silently shook his head, 'I guess I owe one to Brigatti, she did help me in the Scanlon murder case, and Crumb...well, I do know him and he's...he's okay, I suppose. I don't know anything about Molina, though. Maybe that's why _The Paper_ needs me to be there, 'cause of that trash guy.'

Gary tucked _The Paper_ in his back pocket and boarded the train arriving at the station.

**************

Mark was downstairs in the bar doing the daily set-up, when he suddenly got an idea. He ran up the stairs to the loft and quickly went inside.

"Sweetstuff!" Mark was out of breath and paused for a moment, "I-I've got a great idea!"

Marissa was sitting at the kitchen table going over some Braille paperwork when he came in. "Mark, honey, slow down and catch your breath first, then tell me this great idea of yours!" She got up from the table and made her way to the direction of his voice.

Mark patiently waited for her to come over to him and then smiled broadly when she did.

"Marissa! You know how you were saying the other day that the loft was becoming too small for us and the twins?"

"I remember saying that to you," she replied, "And I also remember you not saying anything about it either."

"That's because I needed to think about something first!"

"And what might that be?"

"Where we could move to and what we'd do about the loft!" He kissed her, "But I finally figured it all out! We'll give Gary and Amma the loft, and you, the twins and me will move to Marina Towers! It's only a short walk to McGinty's and it's in a great location! I was thinking about what you said when I was cleaning two pilsner glasses. I set them down on the bar next to one another and suddenly they looked like Marina Towers to me! The next thing I know, I'm running up the stairs to tell you my idea!"

Marissa returned his kiss and grinned, "Marina Towers, huh? I guess I'd better get the number from information and give their leasing office a call, don't you think?"

"I take it that means you approve of my idea, Sweetstuff."

She giggled, "I approve. Now just don't stand there, Mark, bring me the phone!"

************

Molina and Crumb entered Brigatti's office. Brigatti was sitting at her desk and writing something in a file when they walked in.

"Brigatti?" asked Crumb, "You wanted to see me and Molina?"

"Crumb, how nice of you to show up!" answered Brigatti curtly, "And I suppose the other one is Molina! Gee, all we'd need now is for Hobson to show up and I'd have 'The Three Stooges' at my disposal!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER FORTY-THREE**

Gary arrived at the fourth precinct police station at ten minutes past eight and quickly made his way towards Brigatti's second floor office. As many times as he had been there, he still got an uneasy feeling that gave him slight stomach pains and caused him break out in a sweat. 'Nerves,' he thought, 'or maybe it's just her. I really never understood what I saw in Brigatti, except...well, she did bring out something in me, what, I'm not really sure of!' He smiled, 'And wow, could she kiss!'

His smile faded, 'But I'm in love with Amma, and I'm marrying her tomorrow. Me and Brigatti couldn't have worked out anyway...first, there's _The Paper_ and second, she's allergic to cats. And Mom! Damn! Her and Brigatti? Mom would've gotten along better with Erica!' His smile came back, 'Hell! Mom probably would've gotten along better with Marica, too, and she couldn't stand her!'

As Gary approached Brigatti's office, he heard a shouting match coming from behind the closed door.

************

"I want answers and I want them now!" screamed Brigatti at the top of her lungs, "I want to know how both of you got involved in my case with West Side Produce!" She pointed her finger at Molina, "And you, Molina! I'm probably gonna charge you with interference in official police business by withholding the extortion information!"

Molina grunted. "Women detectives! You think you can get what you want by just flashing your legs or fluttering your eyelashes! I ain't tellin' you crap!"

Brigatti got up from her desk and grabbed the lapels of Molina's topcoat, "You are going to tell me, buster, or I'll be forced to get rough on you! And believe me, just because I'm a woman, doesn't mean I'm not as tough, if not tougher, than you!"

"Oh, yeah?" replied Molina, "Give it your best shot! I ain't tellin' you nothin'! And there ain't no skirt anywhere that can whip me!"

"That's it, trash man!" Brigatti shouted, "I hope you like soup, because when I'm done with you, you won't be able to chew anything for a month!"

"Whoa!" yelled Crumb, "Hold on youse two! It's just an interview, not a damn prize fight!"

"You keep out of this, Crumb," replied Brigatti, "I'll deal with you after I'm done with this idiot!"

Brigatti raised her fist and was about to punch Molina when the door opened.

"Is this a private party or can anyone join in?"

Brigatti and Crumb both looked in the direction of the door and shouted in unison, "HOBSON?"

***********

Marissa put down the phone and smiled, "Well, honey, I just finished speaking to the leasing agent at Marina City, and he told me they have a three bedroom unit that just became available in tower one. After we discussed the rent, I had him put it on hold for us. We could move in by next weekend!"

"Fantastic, Sweetstuff! We'll take it!"

"Mark," Marissa asked, "Don't you want to take a look at it first? A three bedroom might be too big for you, me and the twins."

Mark smiled, "If it's too big, then I guess we'll just have to have more kids!"

She made a nasty face, "Only if you can find a way of giving birth to them this time instead of me!"

Mark chuckled, "Um...we'll talk later about that. For now, call the leasing guy back and tell him we'll take it, okay?"

Marissa smiled, "Okay."

\-------------

**CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR**

"HOBSON!" screamed Brigatti, "What the hell are you doing here? I'm conducting an official police interview and if you don't leave this instant, I'll arrest you for interfering in police business or maybe just for being a public nuisance! I mean it, Hobson! Beat it before I can think of anything else to lock you up with!"

"H-Hold on, Brigatti," Gary quickly replied, "I just came here to talk to Crumb. I need to go over some of my wedding details with him and we don't have much time."

"Huh? Your wedding? Wait a minute...how did you know he'd be here?" demanded Brigatti, "Did he tell you?"

Gary couldn't think of a reply, "Um...well...I-I..."

"Yeah," Crumb quickly interjected, "I told the kid yesterday when he came to see me, detective. He's gettin' married tomarra and I'm in his weddin' party! Hobson ain't workin' on all cylinders 'cause of it!" Crumb winked at Brigatti, "You know how he is."

Brigatti shot Gary a dirty look, "So you're marrying that other 'Blondie' after all, Hobson. Well, don't expect congratulations or a gift from me, okay?"

"Can we get on with this damned interrogation?" yelled Molina, "I've got some crap of my own I need to take care of and this is wasting my time!"

"It's an interview, Molina," Brigatti answered sharply, "Not an interrogation, and it's finished for now! I'll contact both of you losers later, so don't leave the area for the moment, okay?"

"Okay, detective," smiled Crumb, "I don't plan to."

"Me neither," snorted Molina, "Not that it's any of your business."

Brigatti glared at Gary, "And Hobson..."

"Um...yeah?"

"Do me a favor...stay the hell out of my office and my life! That blonde you're marrying must be as nutty as you are! I'm sure of it!" She shook her head.

"Heh-heh, she's sure got your number, pal!" laughed Crumb, "C'mon, Hobson, let's you and me leave this place and talk about what you wanted to, okay?"

"Um...yeah." Gary shook his head, looked down at _The Paper_ and noticed that the story about the fracas at the police station was now gone. As they walked out of Brigatti's office, he looked over at Crumb and realized that he had covered for him. Crumb hadn't told him about his meeting with Brigatti and lied to her when he said he did.

"Uh...Crumb...I-I...well, I just want to say..."

"Forget it, Hobson," Crumb quickly interrupted, "I know you well enough not to ask why you showed up here today! That cock and bull story about goin' over weddin' details with me was BS and you know it! I don't wanna know what you knew and why you knew it, okay?"

"Fair enough, Crumb."

"But, Hobson," Crumb chuckled, "Since we're here and together, let's you and me get some breakfast, on you, of course!"

"Yeah," grumbled Gary, "Of course."

***********

Marissa called Amma in order to tell her about Mark's idea.

"Amma? Hi, it's Marissa! I'm calling to see how the wedding is shaping up and to tell you something that Mark and I plan on doing for you and Gary after you come back from your honeymoon!"

"Hi, Marissa!" said Amma, "The wedding is going fine! Everybody whom we invited has said they'll be there and Father McAllistor laughed at thought of another wedding at McGinty's! He even asked me if I was pregnant too!"

Marissa sighed, "I guess he'll never forget my wedding, will he?"

Amma chuckled, "No, I suppose not!" Quickly changing the subject, she asked, "So, Marissa, what's this something you and Mark plan on doing for me and Gary after our honeymoon?"

"Mark and I just leased an apartment at Marina City and we think it'd be a great idea for you and Gary to move back into the loft! Gary would probably feel more comfortable living with you there and I think it would make taking care of _The Paper_ a bit easier for both of you. We could be all moved out by the time you two get back and Mark said he'd even move your things into the loft for you while you were gone." Marissa paused for a moment, "I know we should have asked you first, but Mark told me that you two hadn't made any plans for where you were going to live after your wedding."

"That's a wonderful idea, Marissa! I'm sure Gary will be thrilled when I tell him! He didn't want me to mention this to you or Mark, but he really misses living in the loft and this will make him...and me, very happy!"

"Great! Then it's all settled! I'll have Mark make the arrangements with the moving company to bring yours and Gary's things to the loft after we've moved out!"

"That sounds great to me, Marissa!" Amma changed the subject again, "Do you think Mark will have any reservations about handling _The Paper_ for Gary while we're away on our honeymoon? The last time he did it...well, we won't talk about that."

"I-I don't think it will be a problem, Amma," answered Marissa, "But he has been acting somewhat strangely for the past couple of days. He tries not to talk about _The Paper_ too much. He mentioned something about having a nightmare about it, but really hasn't told me anything. Still, you know my hubby, he'll take care of _The Paper_ if he has to."

"I suppose, Marissa, but just in case...maybe I should talk to him later."

\-------------

**CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE**

Gary and Crumb stopped to have breakfast at Dino's Diner on La Salle Street. "I know this place don't look like much," said Crumb as they sat down at the counter, "But the food's great! A big stack of flapjacks smothered in syrup and butter, fried eggs with yolks that ain't busted, crispy hash browns and sausages that'll make your mouth water!"

"That sounds like some pretty good choices, Crumb. Which one of them are you having?"

"Huh? Weren't ya listenin' to me, Hobson? That is what I'm havin'!"

Gary glared at him, "You're having all of them? Crumb! There's gonna be enough grease in your breakfast to lubricate half the Midwest! Not to mention what it'll do to your cholesterol level!"

"It's my normal breakfast, Hobson! You'd never catch me eatin' some granola or any other of that health food crap! That stuff's for wimps! So what're ya orderin'?"

"Flapjacks and sausage, I guess."

"What else?"

"That's it, Crumb!"

"I guess if I was gettin' hitched tomarra, I'd eat light, too."

Gary rolled his eyes and sighed.

************

Mark came back home to the loft after signing the lease for his family's new apartment. After kissing Marissa hello, he walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured them each a drink to celebrate. He brought her the drink and carefully placed it in her hands.

"Mark, honey, what's this?"

"A scotch and soda, Sweetstuff. I thought we'd toast to the new apartment!"

"Mark! I really shouldn't drink," complained Marissa, "I'm still nursing the twins and it might be possible for the alcohol to get into my milk! Besides, honey, isn't it a bit early in the day to have scotch?"

"It's just past four PM in Scotland and it's a very small amount," he replied, "And if you're really worried about passing it on to the twins," Mark paused for a moment and then grinned broadly, "I, uh, would volunteer to do a, uh, taste test!"

"That's really not necessary, Mark," chuckled Marissa, "Although I'm certain you still wouldn't mind volunteering for that duty! I suppose one small drink wouldn't hurt me."

Mark carefully placed his glass next to hers and after slowly guiding her hand, raised his glass, "To our new apartment, Sweetstuff, may our family continue to be happy and blessed!"

"To our new apartment!" echoed Marissa. After taking a sip of her drink, she felt for Mark's face and then moved her own closer towards it. Using her fingers as a guide to find his lips, Marissa gave him a loving kiss.

Mark returned her kiss, "Thanks, Marissa, that was very nice." He grinned again, "Are you sure you don't need me to do that taste test?"

"Mark!"

"Just checking!"

Marissa smiled, shook her head and then quietly mentioned to him, "There, um, is something else you can do for me, though."

"Sure, Sweetstuff," Mark replied after taking a sip of his drink, "Whadya need me to do?"

Her face turned serious, "I know you don't feel comfortable yet explaining that nightmare to me that you had a couple of evenings ago. So, since it was about _The Paper_ , maybe you could explain it to Amma. We're both concerned that it might get in the way of you taking care of _The Paper_ while she and Gary are on their honeymoon."

"No, Marissa, I'm not ready to discuss it yet, not with you, and certainly not with Amma. It won't get in my way of being able to handle _The Paper_ for a week, you can rest assured of that. When I'm ready, Sweetstuff, I'll tell you all about it," he kissed her, "But until then, you'll just have to trust me."

She kissed him back, "I trust you, Mark. I know you'll tell me when you feel up to it."

*************

"So, Hobson," Crumb asked after they finished eating, "Excited about tomarra? It'll be fun to go to another weddin' at the bar as long as there ain't gonna be some other woman expectin' a baby this time." Crumb stared at him, "There ain't none, right?"

"No, Crumb, no babies making a grand entrance this time! I guess I am pretty excited, I mean, well, I did meet Amma at Marissa and Mark's wedding and to be honest, I've been sorta jealous of them. All I've ever really wanted out of life was a good wife and a chance to have a family." Gary smiled broadly, "And with Amma I get both of them. I'd say I was the luckiest guy on the face of the earth."

Crumb smiled, "If ya ain't the luckiest, at least ya seem the happiest."

"I am. Thanks Crumb."

"Don't thank me, I'm just callin' it like I see it." Crumb suddenly changed the subject, "Hey! Did you know that other guy in Brigatti's office today? Frank Molina? I keep havin' this idea that I know him from somewhere...I just can't figure out from where!"

Gary shook his head, "No Crumb, I've never heard of him before. I think he owns all those dumpsters you see around town."

"Yeah, he does." Crumb laughed, "And you'll get a kick out of this, Hobson, he told me he used to be an FBI agent! Ha! Ya don't go from the FBI to pickin' up trash!"

"I dunno, Crumb, you went from being a detective to tending bar for me at one time."

"Hobson!" Crumb was noticeably annoyed, "Just pay the damn check and we'll go our separate ways, okay?"

"That's fine with me too, Crumb!" Gary raised his arm, "Check, please!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER FORTY-SIX**

After leaving the diner, Gary proceeded down La Salle until reaching Washington Street and the small storefronts that populated the area around the intersection. A smile came across his face after spotting his reason for being in that neighborhood, a small formalwear shop. Gary had phoned the shop the day before and was now ready for the final fitting of the tuxedo that Amma had picked out for him to wear. Deciding to take a glance at _The Paper_ before entering the shop, Gary's smile was suddenly replaced by a frown as he quickly turned around and ran towards the nearby Madison/Wells El Station. "Ya know," Gary grumbled, "Some days it just doesn't pay to be me!" After catching the northbound train, Gary stared at the reason for his sudden change of plans, a story that hadn't been in _The Paper_ earlier, **'EX-COP KILLED IN HIT AND RUN, Trash King Charged In Mid-Morning Mishap** '.

Underneath the headline were the pictures of Crumb and Frank Molina.

************

Having left Gary at the diner, Crumb slowly walked towards the EL. Normally, he would've driven his car to the 4th precinct police station for his meeting with Brigatti, but after listening to the radio this morning, he heard that traffic was at a standstill and decided on taking public transit instead. Crumb was starting to feel a bit queasy from his gargantuan breakfast and thought he might stop for a moment until the feeling passed. 'Damn!' Crumb thought, 'I'd hate thinkin' that Hobson might be right about what I ate, but the S.O.B. could be!' Bending over slightly, he put his hands on his thighs to steady himself, 'And he really put me in my place about Molina, and I gave him crap for it! Maybe I shoulda cut Hobson a bit more slack, I mean, after all, he's gettin' married tomarra!' He stood back up, 'Hmm...I betcha somethin' was gonna happen down at the station this mornin' and Hobson knew it! I don't know how he knows stuff ...maybe it's got somethin' to do with that damn _paper_ he's always carryin' around with him...nah...but whatever it is, I really don't wanna know.' Crumb shook his head, 'Sometimes Hobson gives me the creeps with all that mumbo-jumbo or ESPN shit that he seems to know, but sometimes I'm damn glad he knows it.'

Crumb continued on his way towards the EL and was crossing the street when he stepped on something squishy. "What the hell?" He looked down and saw what he had stepped in, "Geez Louise! Horse shit! Goddamn it! Why the hell does this city still have horse mounted cops?" Now completely occupied with wiping the horse manure off of his shoe, Crumb didn't see the fast approaching car that was heading right towards him.

Frank Molina left the 4th precinct station and drove around the city for a while. He was very angry at what he considered a complete waste of his time with Brigatti that morning and got even angrier when the thought of another meeting with that "skirt" was still ahead in his future. 'I don't know why that so called "detective" needs to speak with me anyway, she already knows as much, if not more, than I do about the extortion plot from West Side Produce!' He then thought about the former cop he had met that morning and kept trying to remember where he knew him from, 'That ex-cop's important for some reason, I'm sure of it! I just wish I could remember why!'

With his thoughts centered on trying to remember where he knew Crumb from, Molina missed the street he had planned to turn on, 'Damn! I just missed my turn! Oh, what the hell, I'll take the next left up here, since nobody uses it except those stupid horse patrols on their way to the park!'

He made a very sharp turn and the sun visor above his head suddenly came down, blocking his view. He began trying to push the visor out of the way and, at the same time, moved his foot to step on the brake. Instead of the brake, he accidentally stepped on the accelerator and his car sped out of control towards a man standing in the middle of the street. The man standing in the middle of the street was Crumb, still trying to wipe off his shoe.

Gary quickly ran from the El station and saw Crumb standing in the middle of the street, moving one of his feet in an odd motion and oblivious to a rapidly approaching automobile headed straight towards him.

"CRUMB!"

Crumb looked up, "Hobson?"

Gary knew he had no choice but to run and try pushing Crumb out of the path. He ran over, jumped and knocked him out of the way, just as the speeding vehicle passed where Crumb had been standing only seconds earlier. Gary was partially hit by the car as it sped by and landed on top of Crumb, who was face down on another pile of horse manure.

Rolling off of Crumb once the car had gone by, Gary had some difficulty in moving and realized the speeding vehicle had grazed his back and that he was now in pain.

Crumb quickly got up and tried to brush off what he at first thought was dirt from his face and clothes. After realizing what he had landed in, Crumb glared at Gary, "Oh that's perfect, Hobson! Ya just pushed me into a big pile of horse shit! What the hell is it with you? That car wouldn't have hit me! Are you nuts? C'mon, Hobson, are you?"

Gary looked up at him in obvious pain, "Cr-Crumb, c-call 911, I-I can't feel m-my legs."

\--------------

**CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN**

Mark was sitting alone in McGinty's office, smoking his pipe and going over some paperwork while Marissa was upstairs in the loft taking a nap. Mark had recently patched their home phone from the loft to the office so he could turn off the upstairs ringer when she napped. The twins' late night and early morning feedings had made the mid-day naps somewhat of a necessity for Marissa and he didn't want her disturbed while she slept. He had just finished going over the month's expense report when the loft phone rang in the office.

"Hello?"

"Perini...izzat you?" asked a voice on the other end.

"Uh...who wants to know?"

"It's Crumb...I'm, um, at...at Northwestern Memorial Hospital."

"Zeke? Are you okay? What happened?"

"Um...nothin' happened to me...it's, um, Hobson. He sorta got hit by a car, um, tryin' to stop it from hittin' me. They're checkin' him out now."

"What? Damn! How bad...I mean...is he hurt? What the hell happened?"

"Perini...I think you'd best get your butt over here fast! Hobson...well, the car hit his back and, well, um, Hobson told me he ain't got no feelin' in his legs."

"I'm on my way, Zeke!" After hanging up the phone, Mark put on his coat and quickly made his way out of the office. Finding Gina tending the front bar, he told her to take care of things while he was out.

"I have...um, an errand to run, so if my wife comes down and wonders where I am, just tell her I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Sure, Mark," answered Gina, "I'll tell her what you told me." She looked over him carefully, "Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine, Gina, but I really need to go...I'll be back shortly."

Mark left the bar and drove the McGinty's van to the hospital.

***********

Amma was talking on the phone to her replacement for tomorrow's paper in Philadelphia, Mickey O'Brian, "I'm sorry you can't come to my wedding too, Mickey, but with the responsibility of _The Paper_ , I understand why. I still can't believe that Gary gets it here and I'm going to marry him! What do you think the chances of that happening were?"

Mickey laughed, "I think chance had nothing to do with it! There are reasons we don't know or could even begin to understand about these newspapers or the special people that are chosen to get them."

"I suppose you're right, Mickey, I'll never figure out why I was chosen."

"And I don't think you're supposed to, Amma. Who knows? Maybe you and Gary will have children someday and they'll carry on the tradition. That could be one of the reasons you two were meant to meet, but like everything else involved with this paper business, that too, is something you shouldn't try to figure out. Just be glad that you've found true love and a man that makes you happy."

Amma giggled, "I know you're right, Mickey. I shouldn't try to figure it out, but just be thankful that it happened to me and enjoy it! I really love Gary and he really loves me, so that's the only thing I need to think about!"

"Now that's the Amma Perini I know!" Mickey changed the subject, "Oh, I meant to ask you, when is your father getting there?"

"He's arriving tonight. Mark and his wife are picking him up at the airport at five thirty. Dad finally made peace with Mark and can't wait to meet Marissa and the twins!"

"Well it's about time! Your father can be one of the most stubborn people I know and it takes him forever to change his opinion!"

Amma laughed, "That is so true! I kept telling him how wonderful Marissa is and that Mark is really happy with his family, but he just didn't want to listen. I made up my mind that I wasn't going to give up, so I mailed him a portrait of Mark, Marissa and the twins! I think that broke the ice and made him realize how stupid he was."

"I knew you'd think of a way to get him to change his mind, Amma, that's just the way you are! Almost as stubborn as your father sometimes!"

"I have, um, been told that a few times."

"I know I've said it once or twice!"

Amma giggled again, "I'd say more than one or twice, Mickey! I always counted on you to keep me... click ...Mickey, I have another call coming in, would you mind holding?"

"No, go ahead, Amma, I'll hold."

Amma pressed the flash button on the receiver, "Hello?"

"Amma...it's Mark. Gary...Gary's been in an accident."

"What? Where? Is he okay?"

"He's at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. He was hit by a car...Zeke's with me, he was with Gary when it happened."

"Oh God! Is he going to be all right?"

"I think you'd better get over here, Amma."

"Okay! I'm on my way!" She pressed the flash button again, "Mickey, I have to go...I'll call you later!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT**

It only took Amma twenty minutes to arrive at the hospital after receiving Mark's phone call telling her about Gary's accident. She went directly to the admitting desk, and after being told what room Gary was in, quickly made her way there. When Amma finally got to his room in Emergency Admitting, she found Mark and Crumb waiting outside it, both of them nervously pacing back and forth.

"Mark! Crumb! H-how's Gary?" Amma tearfully asked, "Have they told you anything?"

Mark hugged her tightly, "They're just finishing with some more tests...he..." his voice trailed off.

"He what, Mark?" demanded Amma, "Tell me!"

"He..." With tears of his own forming, Mark finally said, "Gary can't feel anything below his waist."

"Oh, God!" Amma grabbed the lapels of Mark's unbuttoned topcoat and started to shake him, "It's that goddamn _Paper_! It doesn't want him to marry me! That's what it is, Mark! It's the goddamn _Paper_ getting in his way again!"

"Amma...this isn't the time..." Mark looked over at Crumb.

"It's, uh, okay, Perini, really," Crumb quietly replied, "I'll, uh, leave youse two to talk...and, uh, I'll get some coffee. Uh, I'll bring youse back some, okay?"

"Zeke...I, uh, what Amma was saying..." Mark was dumbfounded and didn't know how to explain his cousin's outburst, "What I mean...um..."

"It's, um, okay, Perini..." Crumb gave him a small smile, "Ya don't have to tell me. I'll be back in a few with some coffee for the both of yas, all right?" He left and went in the direction of the hospital cafeteria.

Amma collapsed into Mark's arms. "I didn't mean that! Oh, God! What have I done? I talked about _The Paper_ in front of Crumb!" She broke down and began crying, "Why did I blame _The Paper_? Why did I say anything about it around Crumb? Gary's going to be so upset with me! Oh, God, Gary! What about Gary? What if he's paralyzed? I've made it w-worse for him! And now...Crumb...oh, no!"

Mark wiped some of her tears and kissed her forehead, "It's okay, Amma, you're upset and angry. I'm sure Gary won't be mad at you," he wiped some more tears, "He loves you too much." He hugged her, "We'll just have to wait until they tell us more about Gary's condition. We don't know how serious it is." After kissing her on the cheek, he added, "And it looks like Zeke knows a lot more than he's letting on. I think he may've figured out about _The Paper_ on his own."

************

Frank Molina was at his home in Skokie, having some coffee and reading a paper, when the radio he was listening to in his kitchen interrupted a talk show for some breaking news.

"This is a story we've been just handed...This morning, at about ten AM, a man was critically injured in an apparent hit and run accident at the intersection of West Chicago Avenue and North Wells Street. According to an eyewitness, the car, a late model burgundy Lincoln Towncar, hit the victim as he attempted to pull another man out of the car's path. The witness said the car appeared to be out of control. The victim has been identified as local bar owner Gary Hobson. Mr. Hobson was taken to Northwestern Memorial Hospital and there has been no information released on his condition. The Chicago Police Department has requested the public's help in apprehending the suspect. Again, police are looking for a late model burgundy Lincoln Towncar. If you have any information in regard to this case, Chicago Police are asking you to call their tip line at..."

Molina turned off the radio and shook his head. "Damn! I didn't think I hit anyone!" He thought for a moment and realized why the victim's name seemed so familiar. "Hobson..." he said out loud, "That's the kid from this morning at the skirt's office! He knew that fat ex-cop and the skirt!" Quickly putting on his coat, Molina decided to go to the hospital first before turning himself in. "I'd better check on that kid's condition...no telling what I did to him...and I'd better take the company car instead of mine. I don't want to be pulled over before I have the chance to turn myself in." He got into his company vehicle and drove towards the hospital.

************

Crumb came back from the cafeteria with coffees for Mark and Amma. He walked over to Mark. "Any news on Hobson yet?"

Mark shook his head, "No, Zeke...nothing." He then took a deep breath, "Zeke...I, uh, need to talk to you about..." Mark was suddenly interrupted by the sound of his pager going off. Taking it out of his pocket, he looked at who was paging him, "It's Marissa. I better call her and let her know about Gary. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Crumb shrugged his shoulders, "You do that, Perini. I'll stay here with Amma and wait for some news." As Mark was leaving, Crumb said to him, "And don't worry about what ya want to talk to me about...it can wait. It ain't that important."

\-------------

**CHAPTER FORTY-NINE**

Mark went to a payphone in the hospital lobby and called Marissa. "Marissa, I don't know how to tell you this, so I'll just say it. The reason that I'm not at the bar, um, Gary's been in an accident. I'm at Northwestern Memorial Hospital…he…he was hit by a car."

"WHAT?" shouted Marissa into the phone, "How is he…h-how did it happen?"

"There's no word on his condition yet," he quickly answered, "But Gary had no feeling in his legs when they brought him in. And I don't know much about the accident, either, but Zeke Crumb happened to be with him when it happened."

"Didn't Crumb tell you anything?"

"That it was a hit and run and also something about Gary pushing him into some horse shit. He said that the car only clipped Gary as it went by. I'm guessing that Gary probably pushed Zeke out of the path of the car, and was hit instead."

"I'll take a cab and meet you there, Mark. Have you called Amma?"

"Amma's already here, Marissa," Mark replied, "And she started yelling about _The Paper_ not wanting her to marry Gary in front of Zeke."

"Oh, no! What did Crumb say?" Marissa asked.

"Not much," answered Mark, "But I think Zeke might know about _The Paper_ …he has known Gary a long time and is a pretty good detective."

"Oh, God."

"Um, Marissa, I think you better hold off on coming here right away. Gary's parents are due at McGinty's soon and one of us should be there to tell them. Amma had tried calling them in Hickory, but they'd already left. When they get to the bar, they can bring you to the hospital."

"You're right, I'll wait for them," she replied, "And I can call Amma on her cell phone for any updates."

"Or we'll call you. Also…I might not be here when you arrive with Bernie and Lois. I have to go to the airport and pick up Uncle Angelo."

"That's right, I forgot!" She paused for a moment, "Mark?"

"Yes?"

"Uh…you don't think that Amma's right about _The Paper_ not wanting her and Gary to marry, do you?"

"I don't know, Marissa. Maybe….but why? And why just a day before the wedding?"

"I'm not sure of anything when it comes to _The Paper_ , Mark, but I don't think it would get in the way of Gary getting married to Amma." She then quickly added, "At least I hope not."

"Me too, Sweetstuff. Me too."

***********

Bernie and Lois arrived at McGinty's around noon. They decided to go to the bar upon arriving in Chicago in case Gary was out on a save and park the 'Gray Ghost' in McGinty's parking lot. Lois thought this was a good idea since they would be staying in the 'Gray Ghost" anyway.

Bernie and Lois were in a great mood. The trip from Hickory had been smooth and uneventful and now they could relax until Gary's wedding the following day.

Entering McGinty's, they saw Marissa sitting at a table near the back of the bar and went over to her.

"Marissa!" shouted Bernie jovially, "How's our favorite maid of honor?"

Marissa perked her head up and wiped away a small tear. She dreaded having to give them the bad news about Gary, but knew she had no choice.

"Bernie…Lois…"

They both quickly hugged her, but Lois suddenly pulled back and realized something was wrong.

"Marissa…what's the matter?"

"Lois…Bernie…I'm afraid I have some bad news…"

\-------------

**CHAPTER FIFTY**

"Bad news?" demanded Lois, "What do you mean? Did Gary cancel the wedding at the last moment and not tell us?"

Marissa wiped a tear from her cheek and gently felt around for Lois's hand, "No, Lois. G-Gary was, um, in an accident this morning and is at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. All we know right now is that a car hit him and the doctors aren't sure of the extent of his injuries. Amma, Mark and Crumb are there with him." She then squeezed Lois's hand tightly, "Crumb was a witness and said that car only appeared to clip him, but from what Mark has told me, Crumb may have been the intended victim and Gary got hit after he pushed him out of the way." She shook her head slowly, "And Mark also seems to think that Crumb might know about _The Paper_ , too."

Lois now had a look of shock and bewilderment on her face.

Bernie quickly put his arms around his wife as small tears began to run down both their cheeks. He then turned towards Marissa and quietly said, "I think we should go there now, don't you?"

The three of them left out of the bar and on their way to the hospital.

*************

As Gary lay on a hospital gurney in a part of the hospital away from his friends, the medications that the doctors had given him began to wear off. Somewhat groggy and unsure of what was going on, he slowly began to recall what had happened to him that morning. 'I-I remember pushing Crumb and th-that car, that car hit me. _The Paper_ said that car was supposed to hit Crumb and k-kill him,' Gary thought, 'But it hit me instead.' He tried to sit up, but wasn't able to, 'I can't move my legs! Oh God, what the hell's wrong with me?' He then looked over his surroundings and saw a doctor standing nearby. He managed to blurt out a weak, "Hey! Doctor! Over here!"

"Mr. Hobson?" The doctor quickly came over to Gary and began to check the readouts on the various machines that were connected to him.

"Why can't I feel my legs, doctor? Please," Gary asked him with a raspy voice, "Will you tell me why?"

With a calm and reassuring tone, the intern began to tell Gary what he could. "We're waiting for the results of some tests, Mr. Hobson. We did a CAT scan on your spinal column and at this time, we have no concrete answers to give you. There appears to be no damage to the bone structure of your spine, but until we get the results of the nerve analysis, we're in the dark as much as you are. If the CAT scan doesn't tell us anything, it's possible that we might need to do a spinal tap."

The man with mud green eyes looked up at the intern and quietly uttered, "Oh, God."

****************

"What's taking them so long?" Amma impatiently asked Mark, "Why won't they tell us anything?"

"I don't know, Amma," Mark replied, "These kind of injuries probably need special attention and they might have to do a battery of tests." He shook his head, "It's possible that we might not know for hours."

Amma began to weep again and Crumb walked over to her. Giving her a big hug, he gently kissed her forehead and wiped away some of the tears from her face. "Hobson will be okay, Amma, you'll see. He's a special type of guy and always seems to get himself outta these kinda perdic-a-mints."

He kissed her forehead again, "And you know that. Youse guys are gonna get married tomarra come hell or high water. Hobson loves you, just remember that and believe in it. What youse guys got is special."

Amma managed to force a small smile. "Thanks, Crumb, I know."

Crumb then made his way over to Mark. "About that thingy you wanted talk about, Perini, forget it."

Mark was puzzled, "Huh?"

Crumb smiled, "Let's just say that, uh, I know what I know, but don't wanna know anything more than that."

"Zeke, um, you lost me."

Crumb continued smiling, "Good! And we'll just leave it at that!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE**

"Zeke?" Mark had a momentary look of puzzlement on his face, "I-I don't understand what you're saying."

"It's like this, Perini," Crumb replied with a smile, "I know about what you don't think I know about and ain't supposed to know about."

"Huh?"

Crumb laughed, "Them heebie–jeebie feelin's, ESPN or whatever ya wants to call it of Hobson's."

Mark suddenly turned pale, "I, uh, don't have any idea what you're talking, um, Zeke."

"Yeah, right, Perini, and my fat Aunt Bessie is the queen of France!"

"I thought France was a republic."

Crumb frowned and shook his head, "Don't you gotta go to the airport and pick up yer uncle?"

"Yeah, Zeke, I do. Marissa and Gary's parents are on their way over here. I'll pick up Uncle Angelo and then bring him here directly." Mark sighed, "A hellava way to meet your future son-in-law, don't ya think?"

"It'll be okay, Perini, you'll see," replied Crumb, "It's like I was tellin' Amma. There ain't no way that Hobson's gonna miss their weddin', even if he has ta marry her why he's flat on his back in a hospital bed!"

Mark chuckled, "Who knows, it may have to come down to that."

Crumb nodded his head in agreement and then made his way over to Amma.

Mark left the hospital to go pick up his uncle at O'Hare.

************

Frank Molina arrived at Northwestern Memorial Hospital about two minutes after Mark had left. He checked at the reception desk and found out what area of the hospital that Gary was in, and made his way to that wing. Upon getting there, he saw Crumb talking to a pretty blonde and walked over to him, "Crumb, isn't it?" Molina inquired, "From this morning at the skirt's office, right?"

"Yeah, it is." Crumb then excused himself from Amma and led Molina towards the cafeteria, "What the hell brings you here, Molina? Ya gotta empty some trash cans around here or somethin'?"

Molina answered Crumb as they walked, "Very funny, fat boy! I came to check on that kid that you know."

"Hobson? Why on earth would ya wanna do that? You don't know him!"

"I know." Molina lowered his head and took a deep breath as they reached the cafeteria, "But I need to check on him, Crumb. You see, I'm the one that hit him with my car this morning."

Crumb lunged at Molina and grabbed his lapels, "You're what?"

Bernie, Lois and Marissa finally made it to the hospital after parking the 'Gray Ghost' in a far off parking area. The three of them found out what section of the hospital Gary was in and quickly went there. Amma saw them get out of the elevator and waved her arm, "Marissa! Bernie! Lois! Over here!"

Lois ran over to Amma, "How's Gary? How's my son?"

Amma put both arms around Lois and gave her a hug. Bernie led Marissa over to the pair just as Amma began to speak.

"There's no news yet." Amma wiped a tear from her eye, "All I can tell you is that Gary has no feeling in his legs. The stupid doctors are keeping me in the dark! They won't tell me a damned thing!"

Marissa quickly interrupted her, "They might not know anything yet, Amma. Tests like these take time."

"I know, but I can't stand the waiting!"

A doctor made his way over to Amma, "Ms. Perini, do you know where or how we can contact Mr. Hobson's parents, by any chance?"

Lois grabbed the doctor's coat and quickly answered, "We're already here! How's my son? What's wrong with him?"

"It's like this, Mrs., uh, Mrs.?"

"Lois Hobson!" she replied sharply, "And that's my husband Bernie Hobson over there with Marissa!"

"As I was saying, it's like this, Mrs. Hobson. We need to run some more tests." He shook his head, "All we can determine right now is that it could be anything from a pinched nerve to spinal cord damage."

Lois frowned and shook her head, "What you're really trying to tell us is that you don't know!"

The doctor paused and let out a small sigh, "Not until we run more tests."

Marissa grabbed Bernie's hand, squeezed it tightly and quietly said, "Oh, God."

\-------------

**CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO**

As Mark drove the McGinty's van towards O'Hare Airport, his thoughts were of Gary and what he might be going through. 'What if Gary can't walk again? What's he gonna do? Will Amma have to take care of _The Paper_ for him?' Mark then remembered his conversation with Crumb. "Damn!" he said to himself, "And Zeke knows about _The Paper_! Or at least I'm pretty sure he does! That's all Gary needs right now!" He paused for a moment and another thought came to him, 'Marissa always says that everything happens for a reason, so maybe there's a reason that Zeke might know about _The Paper_. Maybe he's supposed to know so he can help Gary get through what's happened to him.'

Mark suddenly thought of something else, 'Maybe my time helping Gary with _The Paper_ is over and done with. He's got Amma to help him and possibly even Zeke. Maybe _The Paper_ has decided to let me go.' He then reflected on the events that had happened to him over the past few days, 'I somehow went to a parallel reality or fractured timeline, had a trip back in time and even met Lucius Snow. I couldn't stop President Kennedy from getting shot, chose to let Erica Paget get arrested instead of warning her and, because of me, Amma could've been killed at the produce market. To top it all off, I almost left my wife and kids and even tried to rob the safe in the bar. The choices I made were poor and my judgment flawed.'

Mark shook his head from side to side, 'I wouldn't even be surprised if Gary getting hit by that car was my fault! After all, I could've taken care of _The Paper_ today, but told Marissa that I didn't feel like it.' Questioning his worthiness of helping Gary with _The Paper_ anymore, he continued driving to the airport now filled with self doubt and completely convinced that Gary's accident was his fault.

*************

"Whadaya mean you're the one that hit Hobson with your car this mornin'?" Crumb began to shake Molina violently, "I'm placin' you under citizen's arrest, Molina! C'mon! You have a date downtown!" He started dragging Molina away from hospital cafeteria.

"Wait, Crumb!" shouted Molina, "I just wanted to check on the kid before I turn myself in! That's why I came here!"

"You really think I'm gonna fall for that, trashman?"

"It's the truth, Crumb! Do you think I'd be so stupid as to come here unless it wasn't?"

Crumb stopped dragging Molina and pondered what he said. "I suppose it has a ring of truth to it, Molina. Ya wouldn't bother to check on him if ya wanted to get away with it."

"It was an accident, Crumb. I didn't even know I'd hit him until I heard it on the radio."

"Okay, Molina, I'll buy that."

"So, how's the kid doing?"

Crumb shook his head and let out a sigh, "He ain't got no feelin' in his legs and the doctors are still doin' a bunch of tests on him. They ain't sure what the hell's wrong."

"Damn. I'm really sorry Crumb, and that's the truth." Molina looked deep into Crumb's eyes, "You can come down to the precinct station with me if you want."

"Nah, I believe ya when ya say you're gonna turn yerself in, Molina. Besides, I sorta need to stay and see how the kid's doin'. He was supposed to get married tomarra, ya know."

"Yeah, I remember you saying that this morning at the skirt's office. That makes me feel even worse about what happened to him."

Crumb put his hand on Molina's shoulder, "Hobson's a pretty tough kid, and I think even this won't stop him from gettin' married."

"I hope so." Molina shook Crumb's hand, "I have to go now, Crumb. It's time for me to turn myself in. I'll contact you and find out how your friend is doing, okay?"

"Okay, Molina."

Molina turned and began to walk away, but suddenly stopped and faced Crumb again. "It really was an accident, you know. I'd never hurt anyone, at least not on purpose."

Crumb grinned, "Yeah, I suppose that's true now, but I can remember a time when that wasn't the case with you."

"Huh?" Molina was puzzled, "What do you mean by that?"

Crumb winked, "Never you mind, Molina, let's just say that almost forty years in this world can change anyone."

Molina shrugged his shoulders and walked away.

*************

Back in one of the examining rooms, Gary was still on a gurney waiting for more tests when he heard a familiar sound.

"Meowww!"

"Cat? Is that you?"

"Rowwrr!"

 _The Paper_ suddenly fell off a cabinet and on to Gary's chest. Picking it up, he glanced at the headline on the front page.

"Oh, No!"

\-------------

**CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE**

Gary stared in horror at the large headline in the middle of the front page: ' **TWO DEAD IN BIZZARE FREEWAY ACCIDENT – ONE MAN STRUCK CHANGING TIRE AFTER OTHER LOSES CONTROL OF VEHICLE DURING FATAL HEART ATTACK** '. Underneath the headline were the pictures of Mark Perini and Frank Molina.

"How can I stop this? I can't move my legs!" Gary quickly read the story and saw that the accident occurred at four-thirty in the afternoon. Glancing over at the clock on the wall, he saw that it was now just past three PM. Deciding that he had no other choice, Gary attempted to get off of the gurney, but suddenly found, to his dismay, that he was strapped in below the waist. Now faced with the possibility of not being able to prevent the accident himself, Gary desperately tried to think of another way of making the save. Seeing the cat now quickly leaving his examination room, he yelled at it, "I can't save 'em, ya damn furball! I can't move! What the hell am I supposed to do?"

The cat stopped for a moment and turned it's head towards Gary. It let out a quiet "meow" and proceeded to leave.

"Oh, yeah! That's it!" Gary angrily shouted, "You can give me _The Paper_ , but once I get it, it's up to me! Some help you are!"

After hearing all of the commotion, an intern quickly came into his room.

"Are you in pain, Mr. Hobson?"

"Hey! I need to get out of here!" Gary hurriedly replied, "I have to be somewhere! Just give me a shot or something and then let me go!"

The intern shook his head, "Mr. Hobson! If it were only that simple! We're still waiting for the results from the last group of tests we gave you. We still have no idea what's causing your paralysis." The intern looked deep into Gary's eyes, "The anxiety that you're going through is quite normal. I'll give you a little something to relieve it." He walked over to a cabinet and brought out a hypodermic needle, "This will help you to relax."

"No!" screamed Gary, "You don't understand! I've got to leave! I have to save my friend!" He struggled as much as he could to avoid getting the shot.

"Mr. Hobson! If you persist if this manner, I'll have to call in someone to restrain you!"

"I don't want your damn shot! I gotta go!" Gary continued to resist and the intern pressed the call button on the wall. A big, burly orderly came into the room and then held Gary down.

"The doc just wants to help you relax, fella. The shot he's gonna give you will just calm you down a bit."

"NO!"

The intern gave Gary the injection as orderly restrained him, "This will only take a few minutes, Mr. Hobson. Before you know it, you'll be drifting off into a nice light sleep."

"I can't sleep! I have to help…." Gary suddenly began to feel the effects of the shot, "My-my friend...he…he's…gonna die….unless…I…." He glanced up at the clock as his eyes began to feel heavy. The last things Gary saw before passing out were the clock on the wall reading three-fifteen and the orderly placing _The Paper_ on the counter near his gurney.

"Uhh…"

************

Still not having heard any word on Gary's condition, Crumb was sitting in the hospital waiting room, sipping a cup of coffee and reading a magazine. He suddenly heard something very out of place in a hospital.

"Meoww!"

Crumb looked down at his feet, "What the hell? Hey! You're Hobson's cat! What the hell are ya doin' here?"

The cat began to walk away, but stopped and looked straight at Crumb.

"Oh, geez! Don't tell me I gotta follow ya?"

"Meoww!"

Crumb got up and the cat started walking again.

"If anybody sees me doin' this, they'll swear I'm nuts!"

"Meow!"

"Alright already! I'm comin'!"

The cat scooted around a corner as Crumb followed. After going down a corridor, Crumb noticed that he was now in an area of examining rooms. The cat suddenly darted into one of them and Crumb trailed right behind it. After entering the room, he saw a man laying asleep on a gurney.

"What the hell? HOBSON?"

\-------------

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR**

As Crumb hurried over to Gary, he was suddenly distracted by the sound of something metallic falling off of a counter near the gurney. Quickly turning in that direction, he saw the cat on the counter, licking one of it's front paws and sitting on what appeared to be a newspaper. The cat glanced up at Crumb, let out a faint "meow" and then scampered away.

Crumb shook his head, walked over to the counter, spotted the newspaper and picked it up.

"I think this is what Hobson's cat wanted me to see," Crumb quietly said to himself, "But why? Wait! Ain't this that damn rag Hobson always has with him?" Crumb spotted the story on the front page about Mark and Molina and read it. He then saw the date, did a double take and screamed, "OH NO! I only half believed this crap, but here it is in my hands! The damn thing is REAL!"

Running back over to Gary, Crumb tried to wake him up by slapping his face, "C'mon, Hobson, snap the hell outta it! Perini and Molina are gonna get killed in an accident and I need your help to stop it!" He slapped him again, "It's in that goddamn _paper_ of yers! C'mon, Hobson, wake the hell up!"

After Gary wouldn't respond to the repeated attempts at waking him, Crumb finally stopped. Tightly grasping _The Paper_ in his hands, Crumb shook his head, looked down at Gary's prone body on the gurney and quietly said, "I guess this time it's up to me, kid, ain't it?"

*************

Lois, Bernie, Amma and Marissa were in the waiting room of the ICU when a doctor finally came in to give them an update on Gary.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hobson, Ms. Perini and Mrs. Perini, I have some news concerning Mr. Hobson's condition that I'm able to share with you. First, and most importantly, we've been able to rule out any spinal cord damage."

Amma, Marissa and Bernie let out a collective sigh of relief while Lois shook her head and quietly said, "Thank God."

The doctor then continued with a tone of caution in his voice, "But we're still waiting for the test results on Mr. Hobson's vertebrae. In cases like his, it's possible that the vertebrae can be chipped, cracked or even pushed out of alignment. That would put pressure on the nerve endings in his spinal cord and could create paralysis. Even a tiny fragment of a bone chip can be serious if it's lodged at a pressure point and would require surgery." After seeing the look of concern on all of their faces, the doctor shook his head, "However, it's also possible that it might just be a pinched nerve along the base of the spine which wouldn't need an operation. The symptoms are almost the same."

"When will you know for sure?" demanded Lois, "My son is supposed to get married tomorrow!"

"We'll know very soon," the doctor lightly rubbed his forehead, "And even if it's just a pinched nerve, Mrs. Hobson, you need to understand that your son won't be walking around for a few days and may have to put his wedding plans on hold. In addition, he'll probably need physical therapy regardless of what his condition is."

"My sister Monica is a licensed physical therapist," Marissa quickly interjected, "And I can ask her to come down from Milwaukee to take care of Gary! I know she wouldn't mind since she's come here before to help out my husband a few times with some back problems that he has and told me that if she was ever needed, just to give her a call."

"Mrs. Perini, I'm sure that your sister is an excellent therapist," replied the doctor, "But it's far too early to decide on who will give it or what type of therapy it will be since we need to see what his condition is first." Marissa nodded her head and the doctor continued, "But even if it's only as simple as a pinched nerve or as complicated as a bone fragment lodged near a nerve ending requiring surgery, this hospital has some fine therapists of its own and it would be much less complicated for the patient to utilize their services, rather than importing a therapist from elsewhere."

"Marissa was just trying to help," said Amma, "And besides, Gary knows Monica and might feel more comfortable!"

"I understand that, Ms. Perini," the doctor answered, "But first, as I said before, we really need to concentrate on his condition and how we can treat it. It's only after we know what we're dealing with that we should concern ourselves with the choice of therapists for him."

"I have to agree with the doctor," said Lois, "We really need to know what's wrong with Gary first, then work on how to take care of him. After all, I want my son to be well enough to walk down that aisle with you, Amma!"

Amma walked over to Lois and hugged her tightly, "So do I, Lois, so do I!"

************

Crumb carefully read over the story that reported Mark and Molina's deaths, ' _A double tragedy occurred late yesterday afternoon on the Kennedy Expressway near the Jefferson Park exit. At approximately 4:30 PM, Mark Perini, 39, of Chicago, was changing a flat tire on the expressway's shoulder when he was fatally struck and killed by a car driven by Frank Molina, 69, of Skokie. Molina had lost control of his vehicle after apparently suffering a fatal heart attack. Tragically, this was the second accident that Molina had been involved with that day. He had just been released from police custody on Personal Recognizance after turning himself in for a hit and run that had occurred at the intersection of W. Chicago Avenue and N. Wells Street at 10 AM. A police spokesman from the fourth precinct said that Molina, the owner of Molina's Trash Service and a former FBI agent, "Had a clean driving record and was thought not to be a flight risk. Since Mr. Molina turned himself in, and had cooperated fully with the officers in charge of the accident investigation, we saw no need to hold him. Unfortunately, we had no idea that Mr. Molina had a heart condition. Our deepest sympathies go out to the families of Mr. Perini and Mr. Molina." Perini was on his way to pick up his uncle at O'Hare Airport when the company van he was driving suffered a flat tire. In an ironic, but very sad coincidence, Gary Hobson, the pedestrian whom Molina struck in the earlier hit and run, employed Perini as a bar manager and was also engaged to Perini's cousin, Anna Maria Perini. Mark Perini is survived by his wife, Marissa, 35, and children, Cassandra and Gianfranco, both aged nine months, all of Chicago. Molina is survived by his sister, Doris Cooper, 63, of Omaha, NE.'_

Crumb scratched his head while figuring out what to do to prevent the fatal accident from happening. 'What the hell would the kid do?' he thought, 'How in the hell can I stop Molina from leavin' the fourth precinct station on P.R. after he turns himself in? And how's I'm supposed to contact Perini? He's just like Hobson and don't carry a cell phone!' He paced back and forth in a hospital corridor until an idea suddenly popped into his head. After going outside, he took his cell phone out of his shirt pocket and dialed it. "I don't know if this'll work," grumbled Crumb as the number he dialed began to ring, "And I ain't even sure if Hobson would handle it like this...but it might be the only damn chance I got!"

\---------------

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE**

"It's Brigatti", she curtly answered her phone.

"Brigatti, it's Crumb. When Molina comes in for he's going to turn himself for a hit and run about Hobson. I saw him at the hospital and Molina didn't look too good. I think the stress from Hobson's hit and run accident. You may need to put him in an ambulance to Cook County hospital. He may have a heart condition."

"Thanks, Crumb! I'll make sure he goes to the hospital"

Crumb glanced at the _The Paper_ and no There's mention of story of Mark's accident.

"Damn." Crumb said to himself, "No wonder Hobson is always rushing around. I guess they'll be both alright."

Gazing over _The Paper_ , Crumb didn't feel like look at any other stories. "This is Hobson's job," Crumb said to himself quietly, "And it's his responsiblity. Besides, Marissa and Perini, along Hobson's girlfriend and they all know. I just wanted to help".

Crumb decided to look at one story made him smile. ' **HIT AND RUN ACCIDENT RECOVERS'** , 'It appears Hobson will get married.'

Crumb carried _The Paper_ and gave it to Amma, "Its Hobson's and I just pinch hitted for a moment".

Amma looked bewildered and grabbed _The Paper._

***********


End file.
